The Short Life of a Southern Belle
by Charivari
Summary: Candieland needs an heir. So Miss Lara adopts the daughter of a Candieland employee, moulding her into a Southern Belle to one day become Calvin's wife. This is her story. CalvinxOC, BillyxOC, implied CalvinXLara. Please r&r.
1. Chapter 1

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Author's Note: Hi ya'll. I just watched **_**Django Unchained**_** last night, great movie, and I came up with this idea. It's implied that Calvin and Lara have an incestuous or at least borderline incestuous relationship. You just have to watch the creepy way they kiss. It stands to reason Calvin would have to get married eventually to get an heir. Given how much he "likes" his sister I figure he would probably want his wife to be a Southern Belle too. ****I have to make a note of Marie's indifference to the treatment of black slaves. I thought it would be inconsistent for a child of a slaver not to have this attitude. I will say her attitude will alter as the story goes on. But for now she's the ignorant daughter of a slaver and doesn't know any better. I just hope no one takes offence to the character because I'm trying to portray her accurately of her circumstances. Also this my first time writing in first person and I've tried to get the accent down since I think it's important. ****Anyway I hope you enjoy :) R & R if you like.**

I was born Mary Lacey, though I'm called Marie now, that's the French way of sayin' Mary. My Pa, Eustace Lacey, works for a man who's kinda infamous in these parts, Calvin Candie, the owner of the Candie plantation, also infamous and better known as Candieland. My Pa is one of the guys who makes sure the workers, that is to say the slaves - work and don't get away with mischief like escapin'. Not one slave has ever escaped from Candieland on my Pa's watch, though they try. Some of 'em only do time in the box. They are the lucky ones. The others get ripped apart by the dogs. Not a pretty sight to watch, I can tell you.

Me and brother, Bobby, when we were nine and seven respectively, tailed our Pa and the others in secret. They were after this particular runaway Charlemange. We were curious I guess, wanted to see what went down for ourselves. Boy, that was a mistake. I can't really describe what it's like to see a man bein' mauled to death, how chillin' his screams are. I will tell you that both Bobby and I threw up somethin' awful. I don't know how my Pa heard that over the man's screams. But he did and tanned both our hides for seein' what we weren't supposed to. My bottom recovered but I had pretty bad dreams about Charlemange for a long time after. I still do, on occassion, years later. Maybe my sleeping ears pick up dogs barkin' and that triggers it. I don't know. Anyway they are just silly ole dreams.

As I was sayin', my Pa works for Candie, and my family lives in a cabin on the Candie estate. At least I used to live in the cabin, with Pa, Ma, Bobby and my other brothers, until I was thirteen, and Miss Lara Lee Candie-Fitzwilly returned to Candieland after being widowed. He had a weak ticker, Mr Fitzwilly, it turned out to be the death of him. Anyway, Miss Lara came calling by the cabin, out of the blue, bringin' candies for us children. She weren't like any woman I'd seen before, wearin' a bright dress and her hair in bouncy curls. What you would call the Southern Belle look, for Miss Lara was a gen-u-ine Southern Belle.

Miss Lara hadn't come calling to just dispense candy neither. She had heard about me, the only girl in my family. It would be a right shame, she said, for me to grow up as one of the boys. Which was what was already happenin', my Ma was too busy with the new baby Dickey, to make me dresses. So I was stuck to wearin' the boy's castoffs. Asides from dressin' like a boy, I s'pose I also acted like one as well. If I weren't helping Ma in the house, I was running wild with my brothers. So Miss Lara was pretty spot on in what she said. And she had a proposition for my Ma. She wanted to take me under her wing, teach me the ways of the Southern Belle.

I admit that appealed to me. I liked playin' with my brothers but seeing Miss Lara made me want to wear nice dresses and talk all refined. And the excitin' part was that she wanted me to come live in the Big House, the main house what she and Calvin Candie lived. That place was as grand as any palace and Miss Lara said I would have my own room. Like I was one of the family, she put it. She said she would treat me as her own daughter. She didn't have no children from her marriage to Fitzwilly. I don' know if adopting me was her way of gettin' a child. All I knew was I wanted to go with her.

My Ma weren't ecstatic. She needed me around the house, helpin' with the cookin' and takin' care of Dickey. My Pa convinced her though, sayin' she would manage. Christ let her go, he said, when he heard Miss Lara would pay for all my expenses. You couldn't get a better deal with that. So I said goodbye to Ma and my brothers, and my Pa marched me up to the Big House, where Miss Lara was waitin' for me. She gave me a big welcoming hug, showed me around the inside of the house, introducing me to the servants. Stephen. Cora. There were others, I didn't bother memorisin' their names. I was more interested in the decor. It sure was a fancy house, and my room was no different. I'd never had my own room before, not even my own bed, I'd always shared with at least one of my brothers.

But the pièce de résistance, that's French for the best part, was the beautiful blue dress laid out on the bed, the one Miss Lara said was mine. If I was going to be a Southern Belle, I couldn't go around in Hank's old shirt and Bobby's pants. I had to look the part. Which led to me havin' a painful bath with every inch of me scrubbed raw. Then my hair was brutally combed and styled in ringlets. By the end of the ordeal I was exhausted. But lookin' in the mirror I was pleased with the results. I looked just like Miss Lara, with my bouncy hair and swishy dress. She was pretty pleased herself.

We sat on the balconey sipping sweet tea. That was when she told me my name was gonna be Marie now instead of Mary. Marie was just the French way of sayin' Mary, she explained. Calvin Candie, being a Francophile, which is a fancy term for someone who loves French stuff, would appreciate me havin' a French name. I didn't really understand that, I mean why give me a French name when I didn't have a drop of French blood in me, for all I knew. But Marie sounded more sophiscated than Mary, so I was happy to go along with it.

Calvin Candie was away when I moved into his Big House. But it weren't long before he returned home, and let us know the fact with a mighty shout,

"WHERE'S MY BEAUTIFUL SISTER!"

Miss Lara smiled and I followed her outside. I'd seen Calvin Candie before, when he rode past the cabin on the way into and out of Candieland. He'd wave sometimes, that was the only contact I'd had with him, brief and distant. This was my first time really meetin' him. I wanted to make a good impression so I was mighty nervous, and shy as all hell. I barely ventured far from the door.

Candie bounded up the front steps with high energy,

"Sister dear, how is it you get more beautiful each time I'm away," he demanded.

Miss Lara smiled demurely in response. He planted a kiss on both her cheeks. Then he looked straight at me before he hollered,

"WHERE'S MY NEW BABY SISTER!"

I wasn't sure if he was jokin' or if he really considered me this. Miss Lara fetched me out of the shadows and over to him.

"Here she is Calvin, my charmin' protegee Marie," I'm glad she announced me, right then I was lost for words. Fleeting glances of Candie rushing by in his carriage hadn't prepared me for how handsome he was up close. He was dressed so daper too, the nicest dressed man I'd ever seen. And I realised I probably looked an idiot to him, standin' there, with my mouth kinda open. I tried to redeem myself with a clumsy curtsy.

"It's nice to meet you Monsieur Candie," I knew this was title he preferred. My Pa had drilled this into me on our walk up to the Big House. He was determined I didn't screw up my opportunity to live with the Candies. And I tried to replicate Miss Lara's tone, though she hardly stuttered like I did.

Candie chuckled,

"Well now, ain't you as cute as a button," I started to blush, but not as much as when he took my hand, and I felt the prickle of his moustache as he kissed it, "It's nice to meet you too Marie," his blue eyes looked me up and down, "You're Eustace's gal ain't you?"

I nodded, hearing myself swallowing hard.

Candie stroked his chin,

"As far as I'm aware, your ole man ain't French," he cocked his head slightly, "So why is he givin' his little girl a French name I wonder."

"I used to be called Mary," I hoped Miss Lara didn't mind me bein' honest about this, "But Marie sounds nicer."

Candie smiled,

"That it does, kitten. Just how Monsieur sounds more elegant than plain old Mister, right?"

"Right," I blurted, desperate to agree with him.

Candie laughed and pinched my cheek, kinda rough but I made myself smile.

"I like this gal," he said to Miss Lara, "She gets it."

Miss Lara nodded in her demure way, givin' me a smile that I read as proud.

Candie put an arm around each of us,

"Let's go inside ladies, I think we need to celebrate the newest member of our household."

Candie ordered that we be served champagne, which is a French type of booze. It smelled kinda foul to me. I was keener to eat the strawberry wedged on the rim of my glass. Candie raised his glass in my direction.

"A toast to Marie. Welcome to the family darlin'."

**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 2**

**Author's Note: My first chapter got hits (thank you) but no reviews so I hope people are liking it *fingers crossed*. If you think Marie comes off as a bitch in this chapter, I'd have to agree with you XD But she's a sixteen year old girl who has been raised by Lara Lee so that kind of personality is understandable. And I confess I like writing her. It's refreshing to write a sort of unpleasant character lol. I have referred to _Madame Bovary_ in this chapter, I realise it was published after the Antebellum era so sorry for not being completely historically accurate. I'll also mention that Django and Schultz are going to appear. The story will eventually lead into the plot of the movie. For now we have some Billy-balls-yet-to-be-blown-off-Crash in this chapter :)**

A few years passed and I turned out exactly the way Miss Lara wanted. I learned to walk like a Southern Belle, talk like a Southern Belle, eat like a Southern Belle, which is to say daintily. I learned to read and write some, bein' illiterate to start that was a gruelling process. Admittedly there wasn't much I did with the skill once I had it, except for writin' invitations to folk when Miss Lara threw dinner parties, and readin' the thank you cards they sent afterwards aloud to Miss Lara. Every so often I'd try to read one of the novels in Monsieur Candie's library. French novels like _Madame Bovary_, translated into English. But I could never finish 'em, I'd get stuck in the complex language and give up. So I'd go ask Monsieur Candie, if he was around, how the story ended.

"Sorry darling, I've never gotten around to readin' that one," that was his response to every book I showed him, "I'm too busy to devote myself to the pleasure right now."

I never doubted he was what he said, he was always leavin' Candieland and comin' back, goin' and comin' back. Still, it was disappointing' not knowing how _Madame Bovary_ turned out. I didn't bother taking' this dilemma to Miss Lara. She was never one to pluck a book from the shelves, even though she had the time. She spent her free time sitting on the balcony, staring out at the plantation. I didn't get her fascination with staring at it. But I liked sitting' out with her, sipping tea. We'd often have little cakes too, especially when Monsieur Candie joined us. I've never met a man with such an appetite for sweets. It was surely fate that his name was Candie.

I don't know if it was fate or not that I fell in love him, or if it were just his looks and his charm that stuck Cupid's arrow in my heart. But by the time I was almost sixteen I was madly in love with him. My heart beat fast every time he called me "darling" and "little doll" and any other pet names he called me, I love how they rolled off his tongue like treacle. When he left Candieland, I'd long for him to come back, just so I could have the two kisses he planted on my cheeks, greeting me the same way he did his sister. Perhaps that's all he saw me as, another, littler sister. Just a child.

But I dreamt he might see as somethin' else, a young woman with no relation to him, one he could marry. There was no man I wanted more for a husband than Calvin Candie. It gave me hope that he didn't seem interested in any of the eligible society ladies around. And he did meet a few, at our parties and the parties we were invited to. I won't lie that he laid on the charm on each and every one of them. But when it came to courting someone in particular, there was no one in Calvin's life who I was aware of. Maybe he just liked the bachelor's life. But it stood to reason the king of the Mississippi's fourth largest plantation couldn't stay a bachelor forever. One day he would need an heir, and that meant gettin' hitched to somebody.

A few days shy of my sixteenth birthday Candie sent Stephen to fetch me to his office.

"Monsieur Candie wants to see you, Mam'selle Lacey."

Just about everyone called me Mam'selle, or Mademoiselle if they could say it properly. Calvin insisted on it. It's the French way of sayin' Miss.

"I know the way just fine," I told Stephen sharply when he started to limp after me.

Stephen was a loyal man to Monsieur Candie and he treated me politely enough. But I got the feelin' he didn't particularly like me. Not that I liked him much either. Matter of fact he scared me, especially when he gave me one of his intense stares, like he was doin' right now. It was as if underneath the poker face he wore, I knew he was fumin' at me. Then he laughed and gave me a smile I didn't find friendly at all.

"Fo sure you do Mam'selle Lacey. Fo sure you do! Just don' keep him waitin' now."

I bristled a little, feelin' he was givin' me an order in a sort of veiled way. Still I hurried to see Calvin, because I wanted to, not on account of Stephen. Candie was sitting behind his desk. I came halfway into the room and gave him the demure curtsy I'd perfected over the years.

"Bonjour Monsieur Candie."

I always greeted him this way. He was the one who told me bonjour was French for hello. He taught me some other words too. Oui is yes, merci is thank you, enchanté means nice to meet ya. Monsieur Candie couldn't speak French but he seemed to like hearin' the words he did know. I obliged him every opportunity I could.

"Bonjour Marie," he only had to say my name to make a big smile grow on my face, he beckoned me over, "Come on over here, take some candy."

I did as he said, scooping a handful of candy from the bowl on his desk. At first I only used to take a single piece, but he would chide me for it, insisting I take more. He waited until the candy was in my mouth to start talkin'.

"Now," he leaned over his desk somewhat conspiratorially, "I hear a certain somebody's birthday is comin' up."

I smiled. There was no way he could have missed the fact, Miss Lara hadn't been shy about discussing the arrangements for my party at the dinner table. I swallowed the candy to have my mouth free,

"Yes, Monsieur Candie, it's my birthday."

He cocked his head at me a little devilishly,

"What you turnin' now Marie? Fifteen?"

I looked at him somewhat exasperatedly. Fifteen? He thought I was still fourteen?

He laughed,

"Only foolin' Marie," he tossed some candy in his mouth, "I know you turnin' sweet sixteen," his words were slightly garbled by the candy but I heard him just fine.

Candie assumed a business-like pose, leaning back in his chair,

"What you want for your birthday girl?" he opened his arms expansively, "Tell Monsieur Candie your heart's desire."

I want you to love me, I thought, then blushed like mad. I had no courage whatsoever to say it, I was too afraid he might laugh at me.

"I don't really need anythin'," I said, a honest answer, aside from Candie's love I didn't lack for anything else, not dresses or shoes or parasols.

"Don't need anythin'?" Candie looked at me kinda incredulous, "That, darling, is a load of crock! A sixteen year old girl always needs somethin'. When Lara Lee turned sixteen, she demanded my Daddy get her a closet o' new dresses and a pretty pony she rode once afore the novelty wore off."

"I don't really want a pony," I said, "And I got so many dresses I have a hard time pickin' which one to wear each day," I shrugged, "Maybe you could think of somethin' else and surprise me."

"Surprise you?" Candie stroked his beard thoughtfully, then slammed his hand on the desk, "Alright, challenge accepted!"

I went away from this meetin' excited about what he might get for me. I was prayin' for an engagement ring, that the surprise would be him gettin' down on one knee and declaring his love for me in front of everybody. It might have been foolish thing to expect but I couldn't help myself.

My Pa turned up at the Big House of the blue. I admit his grubby appearance embarrassed me. But when he explained himself, I became ashamed of myself for bein' ashamed of him. He was askin' me to come to the cabin so the family could celebrate my birthday. They weren't invited to the one Miss Lara was throwin' me, only the high society of Chickasaw County were invited to that. I agreed to come, touched that my family wanted to go to that effort, even when I hadn't made much effort over the years to stay in contact with them. Don't get me wrong I loved them, they were blood, but I was utterly engrossed in my life with the Candies.

When the day arrived for me to call on my family, the day before my actual birthday, Billy Crash came ridin' bareback up to the Candie's front door. It was me he was after.

"I heard your folks is throwin' you a lil birthday party today."

I wasn't surprised he knew that. He was good friends with my Pa and my eldest brother Hank. Billy had known me back when I wore boy's clothes and my hair was all bushy 'cause it never got brushed. The teasing kind of smile he gave me atop his horse was familiar. At the same kind I felt it was inappropriate. I was the Candie's ward now, a Southern Belle, he shouldn't be givin' me familiar smiles.

I made it a point to not to smile back, breaking one of Miss Lara's rules to always smile, even when you stub your toe.

"That's right," I answered him curtly, "Now what can I do for you Mr. Crash?"

My cold politeness didn't wipe the smile from his face, if anything it got a little wider.

"It's actually what I can do for you lil lady. I thought you might like a lift."

I scowled at him. Miss Lara said scowls were un-ladylike, but I couldn't help it. The only thing he should be callin' me is Mam'selle Lacey, not lil lady. He shouldn't be teasin' me. If Calvin was around, he wouldn't dare.

"I'm fine to walk Mr. Crash," I said, about to take off down the path just to prove him right.

Billy leaned back a little,

"You could," he said in a lazy voice, "but you don't wanna ruin them pretty shoes the Candies brought ya."

I looked at the path ahead. It had rained recently and did look muddy. I looked at my shoes, looked up at Billy with annoyance.

"I accept your offer with gratitude, Mr. Crash," I said insincerely with a bob of my head.

"Good to see you still got brains above them pretty curls," Billy remarked as he dismounted, leavin' me gaping at his cheekiness, "Now c'mon over so we can get you on this pony."

I took a deep breath before I did, composing myself like a proper Southern Belle. Then I walked over to him with my head held high, determined he wouldn't get any more rises out of me if he tried. But the moment he climbed on the horse after hoistin' me on it, some of that composure slipped, when he put his arms around me to take the reins. I suddenly worried this might not be appropriate, that Miss Lara might not approve of me ridin' with Billy, of the way he was pressed against me.

But Billy didn't give me time to reconsider, turning the horse around and urging it into a canter. I didn't feel exactly secure, sitting sideways as I was on account of my dress. I had no choice but to cling to Billy for support. Somethin' that made me blush and curse him inside my head, and not just him neither, I cursed the recent rain, the muddy ground and the shoes I couldn't afford to get dirty. We reached my family's cabin, Billy slid off and helped me down. I couldn't help glaring a little when our eyes met. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I turned away from him, retouching my curls that had been jostled about during the ride.

It didn't take long for my family to pile out of the cabin to greet me. They must have heard the horse's hooves. Ma was the least changed, besides my Pa, only a few more lines on her face. It was my brothers I didn't recognise. Hank, Bobby and George had turned into young men. Dickey was a small boy, not longer a babe. I met Hank's wife Sarah Anne, I apologised for not makin' it to their wedding. I was too ashamed to tell them the reason, that Miss Lara and I had been out clothes shopping.

Sarah Anne, who was pregnant, asked what livin' with the Candies was like. She sighed every time I said something, closin' her eyes as if she was imagin' herself in my place. The rest of my family said nothin', maybe they didn't know what to say. I was the same when conversation turned to their lives. I guess livin' in different worlds, we no longer understood each other, and it made things real awkward. At the back of my mind I kept thinkin' how much I couldn't wait to leave.

Pa had invited Billy to join us, they soon got to talkin' about Mandingos. I was grateful. It meant I could sit in silence, the men talked so loud it was pointless tryin' to compete. I picked at the teacake Ma had made, thinking about the croquembouche Miss Lara had ordered for party tomorrow. Comparing the two made me feel guilty, I popped the last bit of teacake in my mouth, tried to smile warmly at Ma. It felt as awkward as speaking to her. And I could tell she experienced the same struggle tryin' to smile back.

I thanked God when I saw dusk arriving through the window.

"Billy," I waited til he finished laughing at something Hank said, "It's gettin' dark."

Billy glanced at the window,

"Yeah it is," he picked up his hat, "Time to get Princess back to the Big House, folks."

I was wounded when my whole family laughed. Did they consider me a something of joke like Billy did? Why else would they laugh instead of rebuking him? Would they wait til I was gone and then snigger about my dress, my hair, my way of speakin'. I suddenly didn't feel so bad for not enjoying my mother's cake, or being bored by their lives. I didn't mind not belongin' and was glad to go. Still when my Ma hugged me goodbye, it pulled on my heart-strings. Even if I was her idea of a fool, and she was mine, we still loved each other. But she didn't tell me to visit again soon, nor did I promise to come callin'. I think we both understood this would be my last visit until someone keeled over. So I told her I loved her, just in case it turned out to be her.

Billy rode the horse at a slower pace now since the light was fadin' around us. With the cabin behind us and the Candie's house ahead, I let out a sigh.

"You sound glad that's over," Billy remarked.

"I don't much fit in there anymore," I didn't see any reason to protest otherwise. Billy sounded like he already knew the truth.

"That's a shame," he said, "I kinda miss that lil girl who dressed like a boy. Made me laugh."

"You think I shouldn't have gone to live with the Candies?" I asked him, my voice turnin' contemptuous, "that I shoulda kept wearin' boy clothes and never learned how to be a woman?" I shook my head, "I would've turned out a spinster on account of no man wantin' me."

No man like Calvin Candie, I was thinkin'.

"I would want ya," Billy said quietly.

I jerked to look at him in surprise.

"Really?" I stuttered.

I could barely see his face in the dark.

"Yep. I wouldn't mind the man-clothes, just rip 'em off and show you the way a man fucks a woman."

I don't think I'd ever been so shocked in my life, hearin' Billy say that to me. I slapped him hard across the face.

"Take me home Billy Crash!" I couldn't keep my voice from shaking as I ordered him.

I wanted off this horse, back inside the Candie house, away from Billy Crash.

Billy obliged,

"Sure thing Mam'selle Marie," he said in a mocking subservient tone.

As soon as he helped me off the horse, I dashed inside the house without a word of goodbye. I considered telling Calvin what Billy had said, but I decided against it. Billy was a family friend, and it wasn't like he had tried to kiss me or somethin'. I wondered if Billy knew I wouldn't tell, probably since he didn't beg for forgiveness like he was scared. I tried not to think about him, making my way to the dining room. Miss Lara was already seated at the table, hands folded.

"Marie there you are darlin'," she called softly as I entered, "Stephen said he saw you ridin' off today with Mr. Crash."

Goddamn Stephen. I bet he couldn't wait to dob me into Miss Lara. From her slightly serious expression, I could tell she was disappointed with me. I rapidly went about justifyin' myself.

"He was givin' me a lift to the Laceys' cabin. They were throwin' me a party today remember. I didn't want to get my shoes dirty by walkin'."

Miss Lara rose in her chair to look at my feet. She smiled and I knew she'd forgiven me.

"Well they are pretty shoes," she patted the table gently, "Come sit by me sugar."

I asked a question as I took my seat,

"Where's Monsieur Candie?"

Usually he's the first at the table on account of his appetite. Miss Lara sighed and gave me a sympathetic look,

"I'm afraid he's left on business dear."

Hearing this I started to panic,

"But he will be back, won't he. For my party tomorrow."

I looked at Miss Lara beseechingly. Her answer didn't provide much comfort.

"I don't know darlin', maybe, maybe not."

**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 3**

**Author's Note: Yay three reviews. Thank you wildhorsewriting, Landa and Beth Sainsbury for your kind words. And thank you to everyone for putting this story on their favourite/follow list. Now on with the story.**

Monsieur Candie didn't make it home for my birthday. He returned the day after. I was in the library, readin' _The Count of Monte Cristo_, yet another book I've never been able to finish. I heard him announce his arrival,

"WHERE ARE MY BEAUTIFUL GIRLS?"

Normally I would race outside, eager for him to kiss my cheeks. But I was sore at him for not attendin' my party, so I stayed right where I was. After a few minutes he burst through the door. Miss Lara must have told him where I was.

"There you are girl," he exclaimed, "Didn't you hear me hollerin'?"

I shook my head and I lied,

"No Monsieur Candie."

He chuckled a little,

"Well that must be a first. Put down that book and come give me a kiss birthday girl."

I was tempted, but in the end I stayed in my chair.

"My birthday was yesterday," I reminded him pointedly.

He sighed,

"Yes I'm aware," he walked over me, "I'm sorry for missin' your party darlin'."

He revealed the parcel he had been hidin' behind his back.

"I hope this makes up for it."

I smiled, suddenly feelin' nothing but excitement.

"Merci Monsieur Candie."

Almost shyly I planted a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled, pressing the parcel into my hands.

"You're welcome Marie."

I resisted the urge to tear the paper off, unwrapped it delicately instead. A painted face appeared, and my heart sank. It was a doll, the most beautiful doll I'd ever seen, but a doll nonetheless. Not the kind of gift you'd give to a woman, just a little girl. Obviously that's how he saw me still, even at sixteen, just a little girl. It hurt, just as it hurt last night at the party with him not being there. I'd forced myself to smile then, pretend like I was havin' a good ole time. I tried to do the same now, act like I was pleased with Candie's gift, it was the polite thing to do. Turned out she was a French doll. I felt a little better when Candie informed me of that. It was sweet of him to get me somethin' French related. Still I would have preferred perfume or jewellery, anything womanly compared to a child's toy.

"We - Miss Lara and I - put some croquembouche aside for you," I seized the opportunity to change the subject, "You could have it after lunch maybe."

"Bless your hearts, aren't you thoughtful," Candie appeared delighted, "You don't know how disappointed I was thinkin' I'd missed out on that."

Had that been his sole disappointment? I hoped not as he checked his pocket watch. It must have been a reflex since he only needed to turn his head to see the time on the library clock. It told me it was lunchtime before Candie announced it.

"What are the chances of Lara Lee lettin' me have sweets first I wonder," he mused.

I giggled at the hopeful look on his face.

"Miss Lara would never allow that."

Candie pouted a little.

"Yes she is a stickler for that kind o' thing. Oh well," he offered me his arm. Before we set off he said, "Don't forget your doll Marie, you'll be wantin' to show Lara Lee won't you?"

Truthfully I didn't want to touch the doll. I hadn't once lifted it from the wrapping. But I did now, only out of obedience to Monsieur Candie, takin' the doll downstairs to meet Miss Lara.

"Ain't she the cutest thing," she remarked, "She resembles you Marie."

"Don't she just," Candie agreed, "Thought that as soon as I laid eyes on her."

I perked up at this. Maybe I'd been wrong to think Candie saw me as a child, that he'd bought the doll only because it reminded him of me.

"You should call her Petit Marie," he told me in a slightly joking manner.

Petit is the French word for small. Small Marie. I smiled, thinkin' that was a suitable name. Lunch was served and Miss Lara got to talkin' about the party. She seemed to have an amazin' memory, able to recite who said what in what order. Candie and I just let her talk, which she did until Stephen came bustlin' into the room.

"Letter just come, Monsieur Candie."

Candie dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

"From who?"

"Sullivan."

Old Sullivan came second to Candie by havin' the fifth largest plantation in Mississippi. He and his family moved in the same social circles we did, and had attended my party last night.

Candie threw his napkin down on the table.

"Good Lord Stephen," he exclaimed, "how many times do I have to tell Sullivan I ain't sellin' Eskimo Joe for a measly five thousand dollars. It's goddamn robbery."

"Letter ain't from Old Sullivan," Stephen passed Candie, "It from his son Freddy."

Candie raised an eyebrow,

"Freddy? What's he writin' to me for?"

"I think I know the reason," Miss Lara said in a faintly singsong voice.

"Do you sister dear?" Candie said, letter in hand.

"He's sweet on our lil Marie here," she said, throwin' me an amused glance, "He was givin' her sheep's eyes all night at the party."

"He was?" I stammered, rather shocked that a man had been givin' sheep's eyes and not notice it. But then Freddy Sullivan wasn't a man I'd ever paid much attention to. He had a plain face and a tendency to talk about cotton. Every time we spoke I smiled, nodded and barely listened.

"Of course he was darlin'," Miss Lara said, "I know an amorous look when I see one."

I gulped, not sure what to say.

"Well now, ain't that somethin'," Candie said in a tone that struck me as rather serious, "Our Marie with a suitor."

I don't want a suitor Monsieur Candie, I wanted to say, especially not Freddy Sullivan. But I kept my mouth shut as Candie read Freddy's letter.

"What does it say Calvin?" Miss Lara asked. She sounded eager to know. I wasn't sure if I was.

"He's invited us 'round for tea tomorrow," Candie answered, "All three o' us."

"Well of course," Miss Lara smiled, "It would be improper for him to invite only Marie. Shall we accept Calvin?"

Calvin looked at me thoughtfully.

"I don't see why not," he turned to Stephen, "Write my answer to lover boy will you?"

"Sure," Stephen said, "I can do that."

He certainly could. He was the only slave I knew who could write.

"And Stephen," Candie said as he was shufflin' away, "Have Cora pack that croquembouche into a picnic basket, along with some champagne."

Stephen sent him an inquisitive look.

"You goin' on a picnic?"

"It's a nice day so why not," Candie replied. He looked at Miss Lara, "You wouldn't mind if it's just Marie and I, do you Lara Lee. I need to make amends for missin' her birthday."

Miss Lara didn't mind. The roses needed prunin' and she needed to supervise. Candie and I left her to it, walkin' arm in arm, with one of the kitchen maids followin' us with the picnic basket. We reached a lone live oak and waited for Bertha to spread out a blanket for us to sit on.

"My Mama used to bring us here for picnics when I was lil boy," Candie told me, "It's a pretty spot."

"Yes," I said a little distractedly. I couldn't help broodin' over Candie acceptin' Freddy's invitation. Did he think we might make a good match, dull Freddy and I, the idea filled me with a certain amount of anguish.

"Bertha, have a little wander that way will you," Candie said after she filled our glasses with champagne and our plates with croquembouche.

"Yes sir," she curtsied and ambled off.

"You like livin' in Candieland Marie?" Candie asked rather unexpectedly, sinking his fork into the croquembouche.

"Of course I do," I said.

Candie chewed a mouthful of desert.

"You wouldn't want to live somewhere else?" he cast me a side-ways glance, "The Sullivan plantation for instance."

"No never!" I cried, "Please Monsieur Candie, I don't want to marry Freddy Sullivan."

Candie chuckled a little,

"You sound quite sure of that."

I nodded emphatically.

Candie's face turned rather solemn.

"I'm afraid I'm in a little bit of dilemma Marie. If Freddy asks for your hand, and I refuse, his Daddy, well..." he rested his fork on his plate, "It's one thing to reject a man's bid for a Mandingo, another to suggest his son ain't good enough for my ward. That kind of rejection makes a man refuse to do business with you."

"Would that be so bad?" I asked, "How much business do you do with him anyway?"

"A fair bit when he offers a reasonable price," Candie answered, "So I have two choices as far as I can see. I can agree to let Freddy marry you when and if he asks..."

A whine of protest escaped my lips. Candie carried on like he hadn't heard it.

"Or I can marry you myself."

My eyes went as wide as the time Billy Crash said those vulgar words to me.

"Pardon?" I gasped.

"Freddy can't propose to an engaged woman now can he," Candie said with a smile.

"You would be alright with marryin' me?" I stammered.

"I wouldn't suggest it otherwise," Candie replied, takin' hold of my tremblin' hand, "So how about it Marie, would you like to marry me, stay in Candieland?"

My answer was yes of course, a big blushin' euphoric yes.

Freddy Sullivan looked disappointed when we turned up for tea and announced our engagement. As for me, I was over the moon, smilin' at my husband-to-be as he wolfed down the cake the Sullivans had served.

"Nowhere near as good as Cora's white cake," he remarked as we travelled back to Candieland, "A good thing you're marryin' me Marie. Otherwise you would've had to get used to a lower standard of cake."

He laughed. I laughed too, though cake preference had little to do with why I was so glad to be marryin' Candie. I loved him, pure and simple.

**To be continued...**

**I'll just point out, if anyone is thinking Marie is only sixteen, sixteen wasn't an uncommon age for girls to get married in this time period. It was pretty common for girls to marry older men as well. So yeah that's history folks. And there's a reason I wanted Marie the age she is, it will be harder for her to cope with Calvin's darker side when she finally sees it. For that you will have to stay tuned :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 3**

**Author's Note: Hi ya'll. Thank you to everyone who has put me on their favourite/follow list since my last update. And thank you to guest (whoever your true identity is) and Beth Sainsbury. I think I'll blame that petite/petit error on Candie not knowing proper French instead of me XD Just warning there are themes of incest in this chapter so, er, yeah. Now on with the story!**

Shortly after becoming engaged to Monsieur Candie, I noticed a change in Miss Lara. She started spending an unordinary amount of time in her bedroom. At first I thought she was fatigued, unwell perhaps. But she looked perfectly healthy when she appeared at meal times. Quiet though, leavin' Calvin and I to make the conversation. Soon I had servants comin' to me, like Cora askin' what I wanted on the dinner menu since Miss Lara didn't want to be disturbed. I didn't feel comfortable just steppin' into Lara's shoes, not without her permission, so I went and knocked on her door.

"What do you want Marie?" She sighed, no trace of a smile. It made her face seem almost unfamiliar.

"Cora wants to know the dinner menu," I said, uneasy since she looked so severe.

"You're going be to the mistress of this house Marie," she said in a sharp voice she used on servants on occasion, never on me, "Can't you work it out yourself!"

She shut the door in my face, leavin' me rather upset. I had known her three years and she only treated with kindness and patience. Now she was actin' like a completely different person. I was resolved to talk to Calvin about it. He wasn't in the house but somewhere else on the plantation. I decided to wait in the library, thinkin' some reading would help me take my mind off Lara for the meantime.

Time passed, I heard someone enter the adjoining parlour, hummin' one of the songs the slaves sung in the fields. I presumed it was Candie, though I couldn't see him with the slidin' doors to the library pulled shut. I had shut them to mute the sound of Stephen barkin' orders in other parts of the house. He really let loose sometimes, when Candie wasn't there to tell him to quieten down. Now he was back, I moved towards the slidin' doors.

"Calvin?" I jumped at the sound of Miss Lara's voice, "Stephen said you wanted to see me."

"Close the door would you Lara Lee," Calvin replied.

I heard the parlour door shut, strained my ears to pick up the rustle of Miss Lara's dress. I don't know why I didn't reveal myself then, whether it was curiosity or a reluctance to interrupt whatever conversation they were about to have. Whatever inclination drove me, I stayed where I was. There was a sliver of a crack between the slidin' doors. I peered through it to see Miss Lara, with her hands on her hips, and Candie liftin' a cigarette to his mouth, exhalin' a plume of smoke before he began to speak,

"Three years ago you came to me Lara Lee, with a particular idea, how to get me a suitable wife..."

Miss Lara sighed. Candie put up a hand as if he thought she might interject.

"The daughter of that hillbilly Eustace, you said, she's gotta a pretty face, let me make her into a Southern Belle for you. And I said Hell, you pull that off Lara Lee, of course I'll marry her, cross my heart," he made the gesture across his chest, "Three years on, I'm a mite flummoxed you've turned tragedian over me keepin' my word."

At first all I felt was shock at this revelation. But then I felt mostly confused. I would have been happy knowin' I had been groomed to be Candie's wife. It seemed unnecessary to have kept me in the dark.

"Sixteen, Calvin," the piercing tone to Lara's voice made me flinch, "She's barely turned sixteen. I'd thought you at least wait a little longer before poppin' the question."

"I had no choice," Candie sounded defensive, "That lovesick sonofabitch Sullivan forced my hand."

"You could have said no to him," Lara hissed.

"And risked offendin' his Daddy? Why go through that fuss when there's no need," Candie answered calmly, "Anyway sixteen is old enough to bear a child," he rested his cigarette in an ashtray and rubbed Miss Lara's arm, "That's the most important thing, isn't it Lara Lee. Gettin' an heir to Candieland?"

Miss Lara sighed, putting her hand over Calvin's,

"I suppose it is," she said, "Do you love her Calvin?"

I held my breath waitin' for him to answer.

"Well enough," he replied with a chuckle, "She's a sweet lil thing."

I smiled a little uncertainly, wishin' he had been less vague. Miss Lara sighed, lookin' to the ground in a seemingly disappointed fashion. Candie cupped a hand to her cheek,

"There's no one I love more than you Lara Lee," he said in a husky sort o' voice, "Don't you keep shuttin' yoreself in your room thinkin' otherwise."

Miss Lara glanced up, smiled, and murmured "Oh Calvin" so soft I almost missed it.

The next thing that happened I couldn't have missed if I tried, it wasn't subtle at all. They kissed, full on the lips. I reeled back. I wasn't a stranger to them peckin' each other on the cheek. But this was somethin' else, not that kind of kiss that occurred between brother and sister. They were kissin' with the passion o' lovers. I tore my eyes away from the scene, leaning back against the door panel.

The two people I loved the most, one I was goin' to be married to, engagin' in the sin of incest. Had this been goin' on the whole time I'd been livin' with them? I didn't dare show myself to confront them. Their true nature revealed I was scared o' them. I put my hands over my mouth to muffle any sobbin', prayin' they would soon stop and leave, allowin' me to slip out of my hidin' place and...

I cried harder, I had no idea what I was goin' to do after that.

"I'm sorry for actin' so silly Calvin," Miss Lara's voice was light and cheerful, as if she felt no remorse for the sin she had just indulged in, "Please forgive me."

"Of course Lara Lee," Candie's voice was just as light, just as cheerful, he must have felt no remorse either, "Just don't go shuttin' your pretty self in your room again. I need you to keep this place orderly. Speakin' of which can you tell Cora to make white cake for desert?"

"Of course I can Calvin."

I imagine her smilin', the smile I'd once I thought only as sisterly when she shone it Calvin's way. Now I knew better. I peeked through the crack, watched her leave, and to my horror, saw Candie approachin' the library doors. I panicked, lookin' for a place to hide before he slid them open. I was still lookin' when he did so. We stood face to face, me with a look of alarm and him with surprised eyes.

Finally he smiled. I'd found his smiles nothin' but charmin' once. But this one gave me chills.

"You been eavesdroppin' Marie?"

My first instinct was to flee. I tried to scarper but Candie threw out his arm and caught me,

"Now, now don't rush off," he sounded jovial, not angry, "Can't have you wanderin' the house lookin' such a mess. Here, dry your eyes."

He produced a handkerchief. I took it, feelin' like I had no choice, dabbin' my face.

"Sit down," he told me, "You're tremblin' like a leaf. I'll fetch you somethin' to calm your nerves."

Docilely I sank into the chair I'd been sittin' in earlier. Candie went over to a decanter of whiskey he kept in the room. He poured some into a glass and offered it to me,

"Here cherie."

He had started callin' me that lately. It was French for darlin' so I had adored him sayin' it up until now, when everything had changed. Candie took a seat opposite me and busied himself lightin' a cigarette. I down the whiskey in one mouthful, though it burned, it worked in loosenin' my tongue, gave me courage to speak,

"How could you do that, with your own sister."

Candie sighed,

"I'm sorry we've kept the truth from you Marie. It's just we weren't sure what you'd make of us, takin' you in and raisin' you to be my wife."

"That isn't what I'm referrin' to," I cried, unsure if he was playin' dumb or not, "I couldn't care less that you'd deceived me about that."

Candie raised an eyebrow,

"No?" he smiled, "Well that's mighty magnanimous of you cherie."

He leant forward to pat my hand. I drew back as if he was a snake,

"Please don't touch me," I moaned, "Not after I saw you kiss Miss Lara like that."

Candie settled back in chair rather serenely,

"Like what?" he enquired.

"Lustfully," I cringed as I said it.

Candie shook his head at me, lookin' bemused.

"Oh Marie, you're young, your head's prone to fantasy. It was an affectionate kiss, nothin' more."

"I know what I saw," I said defensively, incensed to have him deny it this way.

Candie's expression turned sombre.

"You can't know Marie, but it gets lonely for my sister bein' a widow, especially as she gets on in the years. Lovely as she is, all the eligible bachelors out there want young things like you to marry. So naturally she's gets to feelin' unattractive every so often, undesired you might say. I love my sister, Marie. So if it takes a lil kiss on the lips to make her feel wanted, I'll do it and I won't apologise."

Candie paused to take a drag of his cigarette, all the while I wrestled with his words.

"But as for lustin' after Lara Lee," he went on, a smile easin' the severity of his face, "I assure you the Devil ain't breathin' down my neck on that account. May the Lord strike me down if I'm not being honest."

His eyes travelled to the ceiling, mine followed. A few moments passed and Candie remained untouched by God's hand.

"See Marie," he said with quiet triumph, "Gods knows my heart, you should follow His lead."

I bit my bottom lip uncertainly. I wanted to believe him but I was afraid of bein' wrong. Candie snuffed out his cigarette and rose sleekly from his chair, comin' to hunker down beside me so we were face to face. Then he kissed me on the lips. I was so surprised the empty glass nearly toppled from my hands. He'd never done that before, not even after gettin' engaged, just held my hand when we went for walks, kissed me on the cheeks. I couldn't resist the temptation to kiss him back. He tasted of smoke and faintly of the candies he kept in his pocket. When he pulled away, the taste lingered in my mouth.

"I love you Marie," those words from his lips made my heart beat as fast as a hummingbird, "You act sweet and you taste sweet. What more could a man want in a wife huh?"

I blushed at this. Candie took the glass I was holdin' and set it next to the book I'd been readin'. Then he gathered up my hands in his,

"You still want to marry me, don't you cherie?" he asked me.

"Yes," I said, because in all honesty I did.

I loved him and each passin' second I was convinced that what I had seen between him and Miss Lara had been an innocent kiss that my imagination had perverted. Affection had been exceedingly rare in the Lacey household. My Pa had been quick to whip our backsides if we caused trouble but never kissed us goodnight. I'd only seen him kiss Ma once, on the cheek, after givin' birth to Dickey, as if to say well done. Comin' from this, it made sense that I would interpret a sibling kiss on the lips as unnatural.

When Candie suggested we put the whole misunderstandin' behind us, I readily agreed, my heart soarin' when he leant in to kiss me again.

A few months later, we were wed and I became Madame Candie.

**To be continued...**

**Candie being rather manipulative in this chapter. And Marie being young and in love with him is easily persuaded. At least for now. Things will change in the future caused by a certain incident. But that's for the next chapter :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 5**

**Author's Note: Hey guys, once again thank you for the reviews, the adding to the favourite list. I've upped the rating for the upcoming adult situations, just to be safe. I never know what is exactly appropriate to be in a T-rating. The n-word is used in this chapter. Personally I don't like writing the word. But when it comes to certain characters like Candie and Ma Lacey, who are racists, it's in character for them to use the term. Enjoy the back-to-back chapters!**

The first months of my marriage to Candie were rather blissful. Miss Lara had gone back to her old self, treatin' me kindly. As for Calvin, he was a charmin' and affectionate husband. But things started to change when I failed to become pregnant. Candie had been patient at first, sayin' it would happen soon enough. But with the passin' o' time, he started to become frustrated. He would storm out of the room each time I had to tell him the bad news. Then he would leave Candieland, stay at his club in Greenville for several days. Doin' business seemed to relieve his disappointment. He always returned home cheerful.

I was glad of this, though it saddened me to have him leave in such a fashion. He wasn't the only one disappointed there was no baby yet. I was too and had to grapple with it all on my own. Miss Lara only stayed sympathetic towards me for a little while. Then she turned cold, generally avoidin' me, sayin' little when meal times forced us together. I suppose she didn't like her brother bein' away so long, blamed me for solvin' things by gettin' pregnant. Finally Candie let me know he blamed me too. The next time I had to tell him there was no baby, he slapped me across the face.

"Goddamn it Marie," he shouted as I clutchin' my cheek completely stricken, "Why'd you have to turn out defective huh?"

He eyed me a second before stalkin' out of the room. I burst into tears. I'd seen my Pa hit my Ma when he came home drunk and ornery. I'd never thought Calvin Candie would ever raise his hand to me. But I'd give him a reason and that reason upset me more than the slap itself. He thought there was somethin' wrong with me. The fact made him so angry that he wanted to hurt me. I now understood why he always rushed off outta Candieland. He couldn't stand to be around me. Me. His defective barren wife.

I didn't understand how I could be, barren that was. I was young and healthy. Ma had birthed five children. Miss Lara raised this point, when she felt inclined to talk to me. With this heritage, it made no sense for me to be infertile. With no scientific answer, I had turned to God, prayin' He bless me with a child. But so far my prayers went unanswered. I began to wonder why He had forsaken me. I hadn't murdered, committed any great sin. So why was He punishin' me? Tryin' to comprehend it, a thought struck my mind. What if it wasn't me He was tryin' to punish?

Every time I saw Lara stroke Calvin's arm or he kissed her cheeks, I couldn't help recallin' that other kiss. What if Candie had lied to me that day, assurin' me it wasn't lustful. What if God was usin' me to punish his sin? Denyin' a man offspring seemed a worse fate than strikin' him with divine lightning. I didn't find much comfort arrivin' at this conclusion. If God was punishin' Candie, he was the only one who could get God to lift the curse from my body. He would have to repent. Ask for forgiveness. That seemed straight forward enough, if Candie was willin' to admit his sin.

What if he keep choosin' to deny it. What if my theory just made him angry. What if it made me hit me again? I didn't want to court violence on myself. Though that wasn't my primary fear in all this. I was most afraid of causin' Candie to hate me. I loved him, sinner that he was. I couldn't bear the thought of him loathin' me. If I didn't produce a child, that was what was goin' to happen.

When my eyes were dry, I ventured out of the room. I soon learnt that Candie had departed for Greenville. This time I was actually relieved. Undoubtedly he would be gone for a few days, givin' me time to build up courage to tell him my thoughts on the matter. In the meantime I was stuck with Lara. Durin' meal times I found her presence unbearable to the point I felt physically sick. It came from knowin' she was partially responsible for the curse on my body. Why couldn't she and Candie be ordinary siblings, with no feelings of lust between them?

Several days later, with Candie still absent, I was consumed by the feelin' that I needed to get as far away from her as possible.

"I thought I might visit my family today," I said at breakfast.

Lara's brow crinkled. Then she smiled. It didn't seem genuine, more like her slippin' on a mask.

"The Lacey's," she laughed, a tinklin' sound which grated on my nerves, "Whatever for?"

"I haven't seen my brother's newborn," I replied, fully prepared for this enqiry.

I had worked out that Sarah Anne must have given birth by now. Not that any of my family had come to tell me the gender or the child's name. I hadn't seen my family since Billy Crash had taken me to see them.

"Oh Marie," Lara Lee sighed, "Don't you think that might be upsettin', seein' a mother and babe, when you're havin' trouble in that, er, department, sugar."

My eyes narrowed. It seemed more cruel than kind for her to make this point.

"I'll be fine," I said, my voice so sharp it made Lara frown.

But she recovered her smile.

"As you please."

"Oh I do please, "I stressed the words then grinned in a way more feral than lady-like. Lara's nose wrinkled faintly. Somehow makin' her repulsed made me feel victorious.

I headed upstairs and changed into my finest pair of shoes. I wanted to shock Lara by gettin' them dirty walkin' to my family's cabin. I left the house, smilin' at my cunnin' plan. By the time I reached the cabin, my humour was gone, soured by achin' feet. I'd underestimated the length of the journey. It seemed so much shorter on a horseback. The only positive was my shoes had gotten sufficiently dirty.

Dickey was loiterin' outside the cabin, drawin' pictures in the dirt. He glanced up at me, squintin', not lookin' like he recognised me at all. Finally he yelled for Ma. She registered me with surprise, understandable since I'd arrived out of the blue. She didn't ask for an explanation, just invited me inside in her no-nonsense manner. Sarah Anne was inside, nursin' a baby boy named Jed, short for Jedidiah.

Miss Lara turned out to be right. It hurt to see a mother and babe together, especially lookin' as peaceful as they were, like Mary and baby Jesus. I forced myself to congratulate Sarah Anne. She smiled in a happy, contented way. I burned with envy. I could barely concentrate when she asked me about my wedding. None of my family had been invited, only the elite of Mississippi. I recounted details for her distractedly, my eyes never leavin' nephew.

If only I could have a boy like him, with Candie blue eyes and a nice French name. Francois or Eugene. Or both. Francois Eugene Calvin Candie. Frank for short.

Ma set a mug of tea in front of me. I snapped out of my reverie, realisin' I'd trailed off mid-sentence. Ma waved her hand to stop Sarah Anne promptin' me.

"'Bout time you said why you come Mary," she said as she took a seat. She never called me Marie, presumably out of defiance.

I took a sip of a tea, tried not to flinch at the grimy taste.

"To see the baby."

Ma shook her head.

"Naw, you ain't here for Jed," her expression was stern and familiar, "Tell the truth girl."

I sighed, starin' mournfully into my mug.

"My husband and sister-in-law aren't happy with me," I began softly.

I looked up. Ma was givin' me a promptin' stare.

"I can't get with child," my voice shook slightly, "That's the root of it."

I glanced between Ma and Sarah Anne's solemn faces. Suddenly I felt close to tears.

"I think it's God's doin'," the words rushed from my mouth, "He's made me barren."

Sarah Anne gasped. Ma shook her head.

"You shouldn't be makin' such wild assertions," she said in a disapprovin' tone.

"It's fact, not assertion," I cried, "My body's been cursed. To punish my husband's sin!"

My raised voice roused Jed who had been sleepin'. He started to wail.

"Don't be daft!" Ma said over the top of him and Sarah Anne tryin' to hush him, "Candie ain't the first man to keep a nigga mistress. God wouldn't make you barren because of it."

My ears suddened became numb to Jed's wailin'.

Nigga mistress. My husband had a...

"What did you say?" I spluttered.

Ma regarded me quizzically. Sarah Anne turned her attention away from Jed, utterin' another gasp.

"Oh Missus Lacey," she exclaimed to Ma, "She ain't know!"

Ma suddenly looked stricken.

"I'm sorry girl," she said to me in a hoarse voice, "I thought that nigga was who you was talkin' 'bout."

"No," I said in a wail, "Who - who is she?"

Ma and Sarah Anne shared a glance o' reluctance.

"Tell me!" I fairly shouted.

Ma heaved a sigh.

"She's one o' the girls in that club o' his," she said.

"Her name Shee-ba," Sarah Anne added, rockin' the still cryin' Jed.

Shee-ba. The name echoed in my head in taunting sheep's bleat. Shee-ba. Shee-ba.

My husband was havin' an affair, behind my back, in a place where I'd thought he was innocently doin' business. Instead he was spendin' his time in this Shee-ba's embrace. And everyone knew about it. I felt so humiliated. Heart-broken. I found myself doubled over, gaspin' for air.

"Sarah, take Jed outside," Ma ordered, hurryin' round the table to me, "Easy girl, breath."

I didn't listen. I began sobbin' uncontrollably until, much to my shock, Ma slapped me across the face.

"Pete's sake, pull yourself together," she said sternly, "A nigga ain't worth all that carryin' on."

"She's stolen my husband away from me," I hissed.

Ma rolled her eyes,

"Quit dramatisin'. He ain't run away with her. He always comes home to you don't he," she took hold o' my shoulders, "You always gonna be May-dem Candie as you please, with a ring on your finger. A big fancy house. No nigga warmin' Candie's bed in Greenville gonna change that."

Her words comforted me but only slightly.

"Perhaps," I said, "But if I don't get pregnant Candie is goin' to stop lovin' me. I just know it."

"Love ain't fundamental to marriage," Ma said a little stiffly.

"It is to me," I said, burying my face in my hands.

In spite of his infidelity, I loved Candie. I wanted him to love me the most out of anyone in the world. More than Lara Lee and this bitch Shee-ba.

I heard Ma sigh.

"Look at me Mary," she ordered softly. I lowered my hands. "You ain't barren, child. I know it in my bones."

"Then why no baby?" I cried exasperatedly, "Explain that to me."

"It takes two to make a baby Mary," Ma answered, "Did it cross your mind the fault might not lie with you?"

"What do you mean?"

Ma took a seat beside me, lookin' rather composed.

"You remember Mrs. Lowell?"

I nodded. She was the widow of one of the trackers. Mr. Lowell succumbed to a heart attack pursuin' an escapin' slave several years ago.

"She was Mrs. Lowell twice you know," Ma told me, "Afore she married Earl Lowell, she was married to his cousin Edgar. A decade later, Eddie died fallin' from a horse, a while later she married Earl."

"Ma," I interrupted, "I don't see what this has to do with..."

"Hush I'm gettin' there. Eddie and Mrs. Lowell's marriage had been childless y'see. A lot of folk thought Earl Lowell was crazy to wed a barren woman. Then much to everyone's surprise, Mrs. Lowell became pregnant with Jimmy. Then Harry."

Ma leaned closer to me,

"What seem more likely Mary. That Mrs. Lowell was somehow healed, or she was never barren in the first place? That there was somethin' wrong with Eddie Lowell instead."

I mulled her words over.

"So you think Candie... could be like Edgar Lowell?" I said quietly.

"Perhaps," Ma said contemplatively.

I bit my lip in distress.

"If he is, then what am I goin' to do?"

Ma was silent a while. Finally she said,

"We need to find you an Earl Lowell."

**To be continued...**

**Lol I feel kinda bad for implying Calvin Candie is infertile. Admittedly it is probably better that a person like him can't have kids. But really it's plot device, a way for Calvin's violent side to be revealed to Marie. He's an adult brat and doesn't like not getting his way. Back then the woman not getting pregnant was never seen as the man's fault. Marie's Ma is one of the few who know better. Oh and I know its Sheeba not Shee-ba. Marie pronounces it that way because of how Sarah Anne said it :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 6**

**Author's Note: Okay adult situations in this chapter, nothing too explicit though. And I hope you like Billy, because there's a lot of him in this chapter. Enjoy!**

"_We'll need to find you an Earl Lowell."_

"What?" I said uncertainly.

Then suddenly I understood what Ma was gettin' at. My eyes opened wide.

"Surely you ain't suggestin' I have an affair," I stuttered.

Ma gazed at me silently in confirmation. I shook my head.

"Ma, I couldn't! I love Calvin, I - I took a vow o' fidelity."

"So did Candie," Ma scoffed, "He ain't honourin' it."

Her expression softened at my hurt expression.

"Listen girl, I would never normally suggest you do such a thing," she placed a hand on my shoulder, "But if it's the only way you gonna get a baby, what choice do you have?"

I scrunched handfuls of my dress in indecision.

"I don't even know a man... a man I would trust..."

"I have a fella in mind," Ma startled me by sayin', "Billy Crash."

My mouth swung open.

"Billy Crash!" I uttered in an objectin' voice.

He was Ma's choice. Billy Crash who I'd slapped for makin' a vulgar pass at me. What irony!

She frowned at my reaction.

"What's wrong with Billy?" she asked, "He's a friend o' the family, trustworthy, you both got green eyes."

"What's that got to do with anythin'?"

"Candie'd get suspicious of a baby born with brown eyes," Ma replied, "He and Billy both have dark hair too."

"I suppose."

I had to admit that Ma was approachin' the situation rather cleverly.

"Billy was always sweet on you," she said in a soft voice, "He asked to marry you when you was thirteen."

My eyes grew large.

"He did?"

Ma nodded.

"You were too young. Your Pa told Billy that. Billy said he was fine to wait. But then Miss Lara came callin' and you went to live with the Candies... Shame," Ma muttered after a beat.

"Shame?" I echoed.

Ma shrugged,

"I thought you and Billy would have made a nice pair. Back then you seemed fond o' him."

I suppose she was right. I had been fond o' Billy Crash, once upon a time, when I was thirteen, grateful when he called me lil lady when I felt so masculine in boy's clothes. Maybe I thought he was handsome too, lookin' a proper cowboy with his musical spurs. But then I'd moved to the Big House, fell in love with a Southern Gentlemen, forgot about Cowboy Billy, forgot everything about my old life.

Maybe he wasn't such a bad choice. Actually he was the best choice.

"You sure he'd agree to do this?" I asked Ma doubtfully, "The risk involved..."

Ma rose from her chair and went to the doorway,

Dickey?" she called, "Go fetch Billy for me. Sarah Anne, you come inside."

Ma turned back to me,

"Billy come here often enough not to arouse suspicion," she said, "And Miss Lara think you only here to visit the baby right?"

I nodded.

Ma spread her arms,

"How Candie ever find out then?"

She took Jed off his mother.

"Sarah Anne, take Mary into the bedroom, help her undress."

We both stared at her wide-eyed.

"Shouldn't we wait to hear what Billy says," I said squirmin'.

Ma eyed me with impatience.

"Your fancy outfit looks time-consumin'. It's better to get it off afore he arrives."

"What if he says no?" I hissed. That would make undressin' wholly pointless.

"I'll talk him 'round," Ma said confidently, "Get in there!"

She waved her hand in the direction of the bedroom belongin' to her and Pa. Sarah Anne tailed me in. It took her a while to get me down to my chemise and bloomers. Her fingers lacked Anna's trained dexterity, the maid who helped dress me o' a mornin'. Afterwards Sarah Anne slipped out of the room. I sat on the bed, my mind racin', could I really go through with this? Lay with Billy, betray my husband, just for the sake of gettin' a baby. I ran my hand over my stomach.

I did want a baby. And Candie would never find the truth. Right now he was in Greenville, completely oblivious. I wondered if he even thought about me while he was there. Or was he too preoccupied with that other woman, that Shee-ba. Were they in bed too right now? The possibility made me ground my teeth, imaginin' Candie and a dark womanly shape movin' in congress.

I tugged at my curls in agitation. How could Candie this to me? Be with another woman for no sake other than lust. At least I had a higher motivation for what I was about to do. So I shouldn't feel guilty. If Candie could have an affair, I could damn well have one too. And when I gave him a child, he would be so happy he would forget his mistress. Forget Shee-ba.

The walls of the cabin weren't so thick that I missed Billy's arrival. I heard his voice though it was too muffled to make out the exact words. So was Ma's as she told him what he was here for.

A little while later I heard Billy exclaim,

"You goddamn kiddin' me?"

At least I'm pretty sure that's what he said. I strained to hear Ma's response, but she was speakin' far lower than Billy.

I jumped when there was a rap on the door. So she must have convinced him.

"C-come in," I dragged the bed cover over me up to the neck. I still had a sense of decency.

The door opened and there stood Billy Crash, his hat in his hands. I expected him to look real excited. Instead he stared at me with a little look of disbelief, as if he'd thought Ma had been settin' him up for a practical joke. She shut the door on us.

"Mr. Crash," I tried to make my voice as calm as possible.

I'd never seen Billy look as solemn as he did, no trace o' a smile on his face.

"Madame Candie," he murmured.

I wished he'd called me Mary. It would have been easier on my conscience, not to be reminded that I was Madame Candie, wife to another man, not the one who was about to get into bed with me. Not that he rushed over. Billy remained where he was, fingerin' the brim of his hat.

Could it be that he was nervous, Billy Crash who'd talked about rippin' my clothes off and havin' his way with me? I might have been amused if I was so damn nervous myself.

"Ma – told you everythin'..." I couldn't bring myself to say 'come here Billy and let's get this done with'.

Billy leaned against the door.

"Yeah," he said almost contemplatively.

I felt tension buildin' in my sinews. Why was he bein' so immobile? Was he havin' second thoughts?

"So – you okay with, er..."

"I'm here ain't I?" Billy said almost frustratedly.

"Well there's no need to stand on ceremony," I replied tersely, "Come over here," my face grew hot as I forced the invitation out.

Billy's spurs jangled as he took a few steps forward then stopped.

"Should take my clothes off first," he muttered, regardin' himself then me, "You, ah, you nekkid under there?"

I cringed at the question.

"I'm wearin' underclothes," I squirmed uncomfortably as I told him, "You only need to take off your pants Billy."

When Candie and I made love at night, he always insisted on sheddin' our bedclothes. I had come to enjoy the feelin' of his hands, his mouth on my breasts, the warmth of his skin when he collapsed on me post-coitus, the lazy pleasure of drawin' shapes on his back with my fingers.

I didn't want to replicate this any of this intimacy with Billy.

"I'll take off my coat and boots too if you don't mind," though he looked kinda pale Billy sounded faintly amused.

He started shruggin' off his coat. I curled my toes, a question blossomin' on my lips.

"You know 'bout my husband and Shee-ba, Billy?" I said quietly.

Billy froze with one arm still in his coat.

"She pretty Billy?" I ventured bitterly.

"Not like you," he said after a beat, slidin' his arm free of his coat.

I smiled, but it quickly fell into a frown.

"Then why Candie like her so much?" I mumbled in a wobbly voice.

Billy looked uncomfortable.

"I ain't Calvin Candie. I can't tell you."

Billy glanced at the coat draped over his arm. Perhaps my talk of Candie made him want to pull it back on and leave. I felt a surge of desperation. I couldn't let him do that.

"No," I said in agreement, "But you can tell me I'm pretty," I smiled, "I forgot how sweet you can be Billy. When you ain't bein' crass."

Billy gave me a mildly protestin' look as if to say crass, who me?

"Remember what you said to make me slap you Billy?" I asked.

Billy massaged the back of his neck.

"I... don't quite recall."

I was reasonably sure he could. I threw off the bed cover, revealin' myself in my undergarments, much to Billy's surprise. I rose from the bed and walked over to him boldly as I could.

"You said," I began as he took in my proximity with wide eyes, "You'd show me how a man... fucks..." I almost giggled. It was a little excitin' sayin' that word. Billy blinked rapidly like I'd kicked him, "a woman," I finished, my hand comin' to rest on Billy's crotch.

My mind flashed to my weddin' night, when Candie had taken my hand and pressed it against the bulge of his pants, makin' me feel his erection for the first time, "See what you do to me cherie," he'd purred in my ear.

Billy didn't have words when I grabbed him in the same area. He just groaned, pressin' himself against my hand. He was aroused, I could feel it.

"So show me Billy," I murmured.

In a flash Billy's hat and coat were on the floor and he slammed his lips to mine. Immediately I pushed him away, fightin' the urge to slap him as well. Did he think this was a romantic rendenzvous.

"No kissin'," I said sharply.

The only man I wanted kissin' me was Candie. Not Billy, who was regardin' me with a hurt expression. I softened, gave him a smile.

"Only this," I stroked the hard bulge of his jeans.

Billy's eyes sort o' glazed over. He nodded obediently.

He followed me over to the bed. I lay on my back while he leaned over me, fumblin' with his belt. When it was over, he rolled off me and lay on his back pantin' with his pants still around his ankles. I pulled up my bloomers and sat up.

I was an adulterer now. Just like my husband, though it gave me little comfort to be classed the same as him. I only hoped Billy had put a baby in me, so I never had stray outside my marriage ever again. I retrieved Billy's hat and coat off the floor, carried them over to the bed where Billy was grinnin' as if to say yeah that was good. It was _good_.

I dropped his hat and coat on the bed and turned my back on him.

Billy had shown me he was no Calvin Candie. He had none of his sexual sophistication. He had no sense of delicacy, no ability to pace himself. His approach was that of dog with a bone. But there had been somethin' about Billy's roughness that'd thrilled me. The look of salivation on his face as he ploughed into me, his fingers diggin' into my thighs.

I felt ashamed. I shouldn't have enjoyed it, not Billy's rundimentary style o' sex. No Southern Belle in their right mind would, especially if they was married to someone else. I was a terrible failure o' a wife. I resented Billy for helpin' me see that.

"Get dressed Billy," I told him tightly.

"In a minute," he replied lazily, "Ain't no rush."

"You need to get back to work," I said impatiently, "I need to get home," I glanced over my shoulder and snapped, "Pull up your goddamn pants."

Billy sat up, poutin' like a rebuked child.

"Yes Ma'am," he muttered with distinct bitterness.

He bent for his jeans. I looked away, listenin' to the sound of his belt being buckled, the rustle o' his coat when he threw it on. Hearin' his spurs, I turned. There was a hard glare on Billy's face. I drew back as he came near me.

"Find yoreself another whore next time," he hissed, "I don't need this shit."

I felt a swell of remorse as he stormed past.

"Billy wait," I said.

He stopped, almost at the door.

"What?" he growled.

"Thank you," I said with sincerity, "Thank you for..." I couldn't think o' a better word, "Helpin'."

Billy's face softened though he didn't smile, just nodded.

"Good day Madame Candie," he said.

"Good day Mr. Crash," I replied.

He left. Sarah Anne came in. There was a noticeable blush on her cheeks. I soon started blushin' as well, worried she'd been heard Billy moanin' through the walls. He hadn't been exactly quiet. She helped me dress in silence. I decided my feet could bear the walk home. I wanted to be alone for while. I was about halfway home when I heard sound of hooves and wheels behind me. I turned, knowin' who it had to be.

"IS THAT MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE?" Candie bellowed from a distance.

Moments later, horse and carriage pulled up alongside me. Candie got out. I felt mixed emotions as he embraced me, guilt from my betrayal, resentment for his, at the same joy for him bein' back, lookin' happy to see me.

"What you doin' all the way out here cherie?" he asked.

I explained about visitin' the Lacey's cabin, tryin' not to sound nervous.

Candie stroked his beard,

"You couldn't get one o' yore brothers to give you a pony-ride?"

I shrugged. Candie shook his head, his gaze downwards.

"Look at the state o' them pretty shoes," he tutted in a voice reminiscent of Miss Lara.

"It's only a bit o' mud," I said sheepishly, "One o' the girls can clean 'em."

"I expect so," Candie conceded with smile, "But you ain't takin' another one step in 'em til then."

I gave a cry of surprise as he scooped me and carried me onto the carriage.

"Good thing you ain't heavy cherie," he said jovially as he set me down, "Get us home Franklin."

"Yes Monsieur Candie," the driver jiggled the reins and we started to move.

I jumped a little as I felt Candie touch my cheek.

"I didn't mean to whup you before," he said in a low voice, "I was just angry. I want to be a Daddy so badly, darlin'."

The yearnin' was evident in his voice.

"And you will be," I mustered a strong bright tone, "A baby will come along soon. I just know it."

Calvin looked ahead,

"Let's hope so," there was somethin' dark about his voice that made me shiver.

I steeled myself and placed a hand on Calvin's upper thigh.

"I missed you," I said quietly so only he could hear.

Candie chuckled, lookin' bemused at my boldness.

"Have you?"

"Oui," I murmured, rubbin' his thigh.

"Little minx," Candie pinched my cheek with a smile, "When we get back to the house, you can show me exactly how much huh."

I smiled and nodded. Ma had advised me to make love to Candie as soon as I could, so there could no suspicion about timin' if I did get pregnant.

Sure enough a few weeks later I kept wakin' up feelin' positively ill, and I knew, finally there was a baby inside me.

**To be continued...**


	7. Chapter 7

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 7**

**Author's Note: Hey readers, a lil bit of smut in this chapter though its pretty tame. Hope you enjoy.**

"You sure?" Candie said in a hushed excited voice when I told him about the baby, "You sure cherie?"

I nodded.

Candie grinned, grabbed my face with both hands and kissed my lips.

"Good girl," he breathed, "That's my good girl."

He planted a kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes in contentment, only to feel him pull away.

"I gotta tell Lara Lee."

I felt a pang of disappointment. He could have celebrated the moment with me a little more first. Instead he went rushing to find his sister bellowin',

"LARA LEE WE GONNA HAVE A BABY!"

It sounded almost like he and Lara Lee were havin' the baby. I grimaced at the thought but brushed it away. Lately I had become wholly reopposed to the idea of them harbourin' incestuous feelin' for each other. I didn't want to believe it was true, told myself their closeness was innocent. At the same time I found myself resentin' their bond more and more. I should be the number one woman in Candie's life. In this moment I didn't feel like it.

As soon as she heard about the baby, Lara Lee started being real nice to me again. By now I had seen enough of Lara's flippant nature to not fall back on likin' her for it. But I forced myself to show her the same amicableness. I knew Candie wouldn't approve of anything else, especially when Lara Lee was acting sweet as pie. But when Lara Lee announced that she was goin' to turn one of the rooms into a nursery, I couldn't stop myself objectin'.

I should be the one doin' that. It was my baby. I glared at Lara over the dining table. She pouted. Calvin stepped in.

"Let Lara Lee do it sugar," he said, "She's a whiz at this sort o' thing. Don't you want the baby's room to look nice?"

"You sayin' I couldn't make it look nice?" I asked resentfully.

Candie gave me a somewhat pained look.

"That ain't what I meant. I'm sure you'd do a fine job too..."

Lara Lee made like she was clearin' her throat. I did all I could to focus on Calvin and not throw my plate at her head.

"Wouldn't you prefer to the spend time with me sugar?" he asked with a congenial smile.

The answer was yes of course. So Lara Lee got her victory. I didn't mind. Time with Calvin was worth losin' to her. But we couldn't lark around all the time. Calvin had plenty o' paperwork to do. Usually he wanted privacy to do it, but on this occasion he let me sit in the room with him. On the proviso I was quiet of course. And I was, readin' _Madame Bovary_ until I came across a word I got stuck on.

"Calvin, what does obsequious mean?"

Candie glanced from what he was scribblin' with amusement.

"Servile, slavish, fawnin'."

I smiled.

"So in a word. Stephen."

Candie chuckled,

"Don't let him catch you sayin' that," he returned to his work a brief moment, "What you readin' anyway baby mama?"

He had started callin' me that lately. It wasn't a French endearment but I liked it.

"_Madame Bovary_."

"You wanna tell me what it's about?"

I didn't know if he was actually interested. He had started writin' again. But I told him anyway.

"It's about a woman, Emma Bovary..."

"You don't say," Candie remarked in a teasin' voice. At least I knew he was listenin'.

"She's married to a doctor," I went on, "Who is pretty nice but she finds him borin'. She falls in love with a law student..."

"So you're readin' about an adulteress," Candie interrupted, "Cherie I can't say I fully approve."

I blushed at this,

"She's not an adulteress," I protested, "She decides not to have an affair and he leaves."

"Oh I see," Candie sounded almost disappointed, "And then what happens?"

"Well another fella's come along that she likes," I admitted reluctantly, "But I'm not sure what's goin' to happen."

"Hmm," Candie pushed back his chair and came over to me. He held out his hand, "Hand me the book sugar."

I did. He walked back to his desk and sat down. I heard him unlock the desk drawer, slide it open.

"I don't think you should read this book anymore cherie," he dropped the book in the drawer, "A married woman swoonin' over other men. It might give you..." he closed the drawer and twisted the key in the lock, "ideas."

I jumped to my feet,

"Calvin, I'd never have an affair," I cried, tryin' not to think about Billy. That had been a one off. I was never goin' to be unfaithful again, "I love you."

"I love you too cherie," Candie smiled, "And because I love you, I don't want you readin' silly lil books like Madame Bovine. Alright?"

"Yes Calvin," I said dutifully, not botherin' to correct him that it was Bovary. He'd probably been makin' a joke sayin' it wrong.

I went to choose another book without enthusiasm. _Madame Bovary_ had been gettin' real excitin'. Now I would never know the endin'. I glanced at Calvin who had resumed his work.

"Calvin?" I said, an unstoppable question formin' on my lips, "You would never have an affair..." Calvin went completely still, "Would you?"

Calvin's head snapped up with a grin,

"What a question," he said in marvellin' voice, "Of course not cherie! Like I just said, I love you."

I was stunned. That he could sit there and lie with a smile on his face.

Candie pushed his chair back,

"Come here cherie."

I turned to the bookcase, too angry to comply. Why couldn't he just admit his affair Shee-ba, apologise and say he'd never do it again? I'd forgive him straight away if he did that.

"Marieee," Candie called, "Ain't you hear me. Come here."

I sighed. Maybe I should just take solace from the fact it was obviously over between him and her. Candie had stayed put in Candieland since learnin' of my pregnancy. That had to mean he was devoted to me. Reassured, I made my way over to him.

Candie patted his knee with a smile. I went to sit, yelpin' when I felt Calvin's hand swot my backside.

"Calvin!" I eyed him with embarrassment.

He chuckled,

"That's for makin' me wait. You're supposed to be a good girl, honey."

He pulled me into his lap, his hand caressin' my stomach. I'd barely started to show yet.

"My good girl," he breathed, "Lift up your dress."

"What?" I choked.

"Do it cherie," he said in a forceful whisper.

I dragged my dress up over my knees, gaspin' when Candie's hand snaked between my legs to fondle me.

"Calvin," I squirmed, blushin' madly.

"Shh," he murmured, "Just enjoy it honey."

I might have. If there hadn't been a rap on the door. I threw my dress back over my legs, trappin' Candie's hand underneath.

"Monsieur Candie?" came Stephen's voice.

"Goddamnit," Candie muttered, "Yes Stephen?" he yelled.

The door opened. Stephen poked his head in.

"Oh," he said when he saw me, "Beggin' your pardon Madame Candie. I thought Calvin 'ere on his own."

"She's keepin' me company," Calvin said pleasantly.

I almost squeaked as his fingers brushed me. A good thing we were behind the desk, so Stephen couldn't see what was really goin' on. He smiled.

"Well ain't that nice," he remarked, "Er, Billy Crash come 'bout the Mandingoes. You want me to tell him you busy?"

Candie sighed contemplatively.

"Naw send him in," he said.

Stephen nodded eagerly.

"Oh Stephen," I couldn't resist sayin' "You so obsequious."

"Obs - obseekyus..." I giggled at the look of confusion on Stephen's face, "What that mean Madame Candie?"

"It means you helpful Stephen," Candie lied smoothly.

Stephen left the room thinkin' I'd paid him a compliment.

"That was naughty cherie," Candie's hand danced on my thigh, "Teasin' Stephen like that."

"You should move your hand, Calvin," I said anxiously, "before Mr. Crash comes."

"Hmm," Candie gave my thigh a squeeze.

"Please," I hissed, "It's inappropriate."

Candie sighed,

"Oh alright," he slid his hand out from under my dress, "But don't think I'm finished with you," he purred in my ear, "Soon as I'm done with Mr. Crash, we gonna have fun cherie."

He slowly bucked his hips in meanin'. I blushed, too flustered to notice Billy's arrival until Calvin hailed him.

"Billy Boy, how do you do!" he said with boomin' theatricality.

"Good," Billy said in a sort o' non-committal tone.

This was the first I'd seen Billy since the cabin. Pieces o' that day flashed before my eyes, left me feelin' mighty uncomfortable, especially when Billy looked straight at me.

"Madame Candie," he inclined his head politely.

"Mr. Crash," I replied, tryin' to sound reserved as possible.

I was glad when Billy's eyes shifted to Calvin,

"Hope I ain't interruptin' nuthin'," he said gruffly.

"Naw," Calvin said congenially, "Marie don't mind us talkin' business, do you darlin'."

"Not at all," I said, wishin' I could get up and leave the room. But Calvin's arms were wrapped around my waist, "Go right ahead."

"Thank you darlin'," Calvin chirped, "So Billy Boy, this Vessepi character, who we gonna put up against his nigga tomorrow?"

"Big Fred I reckon," Billy answered.

"Not D'Artagnan?"

Billy shook his head,

"Vessepi's nigga is pretty good from what I hear. And D'Artagnan barely won that last fight against Yellow Pete."

"You think he can't win another?" Candie sounded irritated.

"Against a weak opponent maybe," Billy said, "But this Luigi ain't weak."

Candie stroked his beard,

"Big Fred it is then," he said, "Have him ready to go in the mornin'."

"Sure thing."

I was relieved to see Billy headin' for the door. But all o' a sudden he turned around.

"Forgot somethin' Billy?" Candie sounded amused, "If you're lookin' for your hat it's in your hand."

Billy shook his head. He seemed a little irritated.

"Just wanted to say congratulations," he said, "'Bout the baby."

My stomach tightened. There was no way of tellin' whether Billy was the father of my baby. But I preferred to believe that it had actually been Candie, who hadn't turned out to be like Eddie Lowell at all. It was more comfortin' for me to think this. I didn't like Billy here, remindin' me it could be different.

"That's mighty nice o' you Billy," Candie said.

"Yes thank you Billy," I said in the brightest voice I could.

Billy smiled but it was more like a grimace. I couldn't imagine how he must be feelin', thinkin' he had fathered our child.

"Your folks is happy for you," he said to me, "Your Ma wanted you to know, case you don't visit."

I wasn't plannin' on it. I only wanted to stay around the Big House with Calvin.

"Thanks for passin' on the message Billy," Candie's voice had a hint of impatience, "You run along now. I'll see you tomorrow."

Billy's brow furrowed slightly,

"Yeah see you," he muttered, "Madame Candie," he dipped his head to me.

"Mr. Crash," I said distractedly, my mind in what Candie had meant by 'see you tomorrow'.

"Now where were we sugar?" he purred as soon as Billy left.

I tried not to focus on his hand slidin' over my thigh.

"Are you goin' to the club tomorrow Calvin?" I asked.

"Yes cherie," Candie answered, "I got this big fight arranged," he chuckled, "No need to look so unhappy darlin'. I'll be home come next day."

It wasn't how long he was goin' for that bothered me. Even the fact he was goin' at all wasn't that bad. It was the fact that he was goin' to where she was. That Shee-ba. She might use the opportunity to get her claws back into him. I couldn't let that happen.

"Let me come with you," I said rapidly.

Candie had begun hikin' up my dress. He paused.

"To the club? Why you wanna go there cherie?"

Because I don't trust you around that Shee-ba, I thought, because I wanna keep an eye on you. Of course I wasn't goin' to tell him that to his face.

"I'm curious," I shrugged, "I've never been to the club. Also I don't like you bein' away from me."

The last part was entirely true.

"Oh sweetheart," Candie tapped my nose, "I know you don't. But there ain't much in the club that's gonna interest you. Especially not the fight. That sort o' thing's far too bloodthirsty for a sweet thing like you to watch."

"So I'll leave the room when it happens," I said brightly, "I'll... bring a book to read or somethin'. Rest o' the time I'll be fine just hangin' off your arm, bein' quiet and watchin' you work. Like today."

Candie didn't look particularly swayed. In desperation I slipped my hand to zip of his pants.

"Please Calvin," I implored him softly.

Candie looked rather bemused.

"My, my. You've sure learnt how to ask somethin' from me, haven't you cherie," he said in a low voice.

I held my breath as he studied me for a long moment.

"Alright," he said, "You can tag along."

I gave a cry of delight and kissed him, feelin' completely victorious.

**To be continued...**

**Methinks Candie has his own reason for letting Marie come along. But you'll have to wait to find out readers. Mwahahaha til next time! **


	8. Chapter 8

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 8**

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Thank you Emily and diego for the lovely reviews :) And thank you to everyone who generally clicks onto this story. I watch my traffic stats like a stalker lololol. Enjoy the chapter. Oh and if anyone is wondering what Marie actually looks like, I'd say Sophie Turner from GOT.**

It was a five hour journey from Candieland to Greenville. We left at dawn but it wasn't long before the sun was high in the sky. Its rays beat mercilessly down on my unprotected head. I'd been so excited about leavin' that I'd forgotten the necessity of a bonnet, let alone a parasol. I cursed myself, not only was I uncomfortable, I was terribly worried about sunburn. I didn't want to arrive at the club lookin' like a tomato. How was I goin' to stand up against that Shee-ba then?

I might have asked Candie for his hat. But he was nappin' contently on my shoulder. Anyway why should he give up his own shade because I'd been too stupid to remember my own? I looked down at my stomach. Lettin' my body get this hot n' bothered couldn't be good for the baby either. Little bean was probably boilin' in the womb. What was I goin' to do?

"You startin' to look a bit red Madame Candie."

My head jerked to the side to see Billy. I hadn't even noticed him ride up alongside the carriage. I glared, havin' heard a lilt of teasin' in his voice. To my surprise he took off his hat and offered it to me,

"Can't let you get heat stroke. Wouldn't be good for the baby."

I winced at the last word, his concern makin' me uncomfortable. Despite this, I accepted the hat, too desperate not to.

"Thank you Billy."

I plopped the hat on my head. It fell forward over my eyes. Billy chuckled.

"Still too big for you I see."

He was referrin' to when I was younger. He and Hank would plonk their hats on me for a laugh. Reminiscent o' those times, I pushed the brim back and said with a smile,

"Ain't my fault you have a big head."

Billy looked surprised to have me summon the same retort all these years later. But then he laughed. I might have done too, if not for the feelin' of eyes on my back. I glanced over my shoulder, saw Candie's bodyguard Mr. Pooch watchin' us intently. I turned back around fearfully. I didn't want him formin' some kind o' opinion about Billy and I and tellin' Candie.

"Time to get back where you was Billy," I said hurriedly.

The order wiped the humour from Billy's face. He scowled, whipped his horse around and trotted back to his usual place in the convoy. My eyes flicked nervously back to Mr. Pooch. His gaze remained intense, as if to say: I'd better not catch you gettin' chummy with any of the men again, otherwise I'll tattle. He needn't have worried. I was never goin' to make the same mistake again.

I trained my eyes on the road ahead. Despite the shade from Billy's hat, it was still awfully hot. I felt my eyelids get heavier and heavier til I could hold them open no longer.

The next thing I knew Candie was shakin' me awake,

"Rise and shine sleepin' beauty, we here now."

I rubbed my eyes to see we had indeed arrived. Beyond open gates, a towerin' house stood before us.

"Welcome to the Cleopatra Club sugar," Calvin said, holdin' my hand as I stepped down out of the carriage.

"It looks rather impressive," I said.

"Just wait til you see the inside," said Candie, not without a hint of smugness, "Though afore we go, you better give Billy his hat back."

"H-how do you know it's Billy's?" I asked nervously.

Candie spread his arms theatrically,

"Why my wonderful powers of deduction o' course! He's the only one currently sans a hat. Billy!"

Billy walked his horse over. Candie plucked the hat off my head and tossed it to him.

"Thanks for the lend o' your hat, Billy Boy," Candie chirped, "My wife and I are much obliged."

"Don't mention it," Billy said gruffly, "You want me to bring Big Fred in 'round the back?"

"You know the drill," Candie said cheerfully, "Come on cherie."

He looped his arm with mine and marched me up to the front door. He insisted I ring the doorbell, as if it was some kind of novelty. The door swung open to reveal a black girl in some sort o' sexualised maid's outfit.

"Bonjour!" she greeted us with a wide smile.

Figurin' she was Shee-ba, I glared at her. Her smile faltered.

"Bonjour Coco," Candie said in a pleasant voice, "I want you to meet my wife."

The girl's eyes widened,

"Oh, um," she dropped a curtsy, "En-shan-tay Missus Candie."

"Enchanté," I corrected, "And it's Madame, not Missus."

The girl's face fell rather pitifully.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"It's okay Coco," Candie soothed her in a somewhat amused voice, "You just remember for next time. Now what do we say to invite folk in?"

The girl mustered a grin,

"En-tra."

She looked at me for approval. Uninterested in correctin' her again, I brushed past her without a word. I scanned the hallway flanked by candelabras leadin' to a staircase, which a man was hurryin' down, it as if on cue.

"Calvin!"

It was Mr. Moguy, Candie's lawyer. I'd met him before he came to the house on business. He'd also attended our wedding. On this occasion, he looked surprised to see me, though he masked it with a simperin' smile. The word obsequious fitted Moguy as good as it did Stephen.

"Madame Candie. Calvin didn't tell me you were comin'."

"It was last minute decision," Candie said, "How do you do Leo?" he shook the man's hand.

"Well, exceedingly well," Moguy babbled, "And you..."

"Calvin," came a purrin' voice.

I peered down the hallway to see a black woman emerge from the shadows, clad in a perfectly indecent figure-huggin' dress. One look at her and I knew. This was Shee-ba. She sauntered over with a smile on her lips.

"Sheba," Candie said in a voice so sharp she halted with a pout, "Allow me to introduce my wife Madame Candie."

I saw her eyes flash before she bowed.

"Nice to meet you Madame Candie."

"Shee-ba was it?" I said, "That's a funny name. Sounds like a noise a sheep makes. Shee-ba. Shee-ba," I bleated in a taunting voice.

Shee-ba stared at me, her cat-like eyes narrowed. I bet she wanted to strangle me as much as I wanted to strangle her.

"Darlin' it's Sheba, not Shee-ba," Candie said with a chuckle that seemed slightly strained.

I shrugged,

"Can't see the difference myself," I clutched Candie's arm and leaned deliberately against him, "Aren't you goin' to show me around Calvin?"

"Sure thing sugar," Candie replied, "Sheba, keep ole Leo company will you?"

"Yes Calvin," Shee-ba smiled like a cat cornerin' a mouse, "Should show Madame your room first. It the nicest one in the house."

I wondered in that moment if she knew that I knew about them. Why else would she suggest showin' me the room they had copulated in?

"That's a grand idea," Candie appeared unfazed by the suggestion, "Come on cherie."

We ascended the staircase, reached a hallway lined with closed doors. One swung open and out stepped a person I recognised. Freddy Sullivan with a black woman on his arm. He'd likely said somethin' he found witty, for he was laughin'. His companion was smilin', no doubt to humour him. Freddy was no Socrates. As soon as he saw me, he turned bright red, obviously embarrassed for me to catch him in this position.

"Missus Candie," he spluttered, "How do you do?"

"Hello Mr. Sullivan," I said coldly, "How's Missy doin'?"

It hadn't taken Freddy to recover from my engagement to Candie. He'd married a socialite by the name of Missy Perkins. She was about as dull as Freddy, which made them a good match. I was appalled he was here doin' the dirty on her. To his credit, Freddy had the decency to look ashamed, lettin' go of the black woman's arm.

"Missy's good," he said weakly.

"Say hello to her for me. She's a good woman," I said the last part with emphasis.

"I'd appreciate you not mentionin' the w-word to anyone else sugar," Candie said after we left Freddy and his companion behind, "Ain't no judgement within these walls."

"Well maybe there should be," I replied huffily, "Married men should honour the vows they made before God."

"And you should honour the vow to obey me sugar," Candie's tone turned sharp, "Keep them pretty lips shut on the matter. Ain't no business o' yours where other men take their pleasure."

I supposed it wasn't. At the very least it wasn't worth angerin' Calvin by arguin'.

"Yes Calvin."

Candie smiled,

"Good girl."

We reached Calvin's room, which you could tell was his just by lookin' at the French decor. It was actually rather similar to our bedroom back in Candieland.

"Well it is my home away from home," Candie said when I made this remark, "You like it?"

I nodded vaguely, havin' noticed the closet. The closet back home had both mine and Candie's clothes in it. I wondered if...

"Marie," Candie said my voice like a warnin'.

That fact that he did spurred me to swing the closet open. My heart wrenched when I saw the line of glitterin' outfits that had to belong to Shee-ba. So she was practically livin' in this room with him, like they were man and wife.

"Oh Calvin," I turned to him heart-broken, "how could you?"

I was expectin' either apology or denial. Instead Candie grinned and hollered,

"Surprise!"

"What?" I stuttered.

Candie came and put his arm around me,

"I thought you might like to dress a lil differently tonight," he said, "So I had these dresses brought up for you."

For a moment I could only stare at him. Then I pushed his hand off my hip.

"What kind o' fool do you take me for," I hissed, "I know these are hers!"

Candie put on a look of confusion,

"Who's darlin'?"

"Shee-ba's!" I cried, "I know she's your mistress."

I stormed over to bed and sat on the edge. Calvin didn't chase after me. He stayed by the closet and shook his head at me,

"Mistress? What lil birdie told you that?"

There was a dark edge to his voice as he enquired. I shook my head. I wasn't goin' let Ma get into trouble with Candie for simply tellin' the truth.

"What does it matter?" I evaded the question, "It only matters that's it's true."

I jabbed my finger at the closet.

"Please stop lyin' to me," I pleaded, "I can't forgive you if keep denyin' it."

I watched Candie's handsome blue-eyed face soften into a look of apology.

"Then I won't anymore," he said, "I'm sorry cherie."

I started to cry at the admission. Candie came and sat beside me. I felt his fingers consolingly on my back.

"Was it b-because there was no b-baby straight away?" I choked out.

"Yes," Candie said after a beat.

I cried harder, feelin' it was my fault for drivin' him into Shee-ba's arms.

"Hush sugar," Candie pulled me onto his lap, "That problem's all fixed now," he caressed my stomach, "There's a lil one in there and I'm goin' to be true to him and you. I promise."

"P-promise?" I rubbed my eyes.

"Why would I want any woman 'sides the white lil dove havin' my chick huh?" Candie murmured against my neck.

I felt the pop as he undid the first button at the back of my dress.

"What 'bout Shee-ba?" I asked.

Pop went another button.

"What 'bout her?"

"Can you sell her?" I begged.

"I'm afraid not cherie," Candie replied, fingerin' the next button, "The patrons wouldn't like it. She's somethin' of a set piece 'round here."

"But..."

"Shh lil doll," Candie kissed my neck, "Don't talk 'bout that pony. Just be quiet and let Calvin make you feel better."

He stripped me bare, which wasn't normally the custom when we made love durin' the day. It was such a hassle to get me re-dressed. But Candie didn't seem to care about that this time. He wouldn't let me get under the sheets either. I blushed when he explained that he wanted to have a good look at me. His 'white lil dove'. I lay there fully exposed for his eyes 'til he decided he'd had enough lookin' and climbed on top of me.

"Oh my soft lil doll," he crooned as he moved in and out of me with trademark finesse, "I love you darlin'."

"I love you too," I whispered, clutchin' him with the desperation of a man clingin' to driftwood at sea. He was mine and no one else's.

Afterwards I huddled close to him as he stroked my stomach.

"Do you like the name Francois, Calvin?"

"For the baby you mean?"

"Yes, its French and we could call him Frank for short."

"Frank's a lil too plebeian, lil doll," Calvin said to my dismay, "You know Lara Lee suggested a nice name to me the other day. Rex."

"Rex?" I said without enthusiasm.

"It's Latin for king," Candie explained, "Appropriate for the heir to our lil kingdom, don't you think cherie?"

I suppose it was. But that didn't mean I liked it. Why should Lara Lee get to choose my baby's name? It was bad enough Candie was lettin' her decorate the nursery.

I yelped as Candie pinched my breast.

"I don't like it when you ignore me cherie," he said sternly.

"S-sorry," I squeaked.

"I forgive you," Candie said pleasantly, rubbin' the spot he'd pinched, "You do like the name Rex don't you sugar?"

No, I wanted to snap, I hate it. But I knew Candie wanted me to like it. I nodded.

"Good girl," Candie purred and resumed strokin' my stomach, "Rex J Candie."

I couldn't help smilin' at the lovin' way he said it. I knew Candie was goin' to be a devoted father.

"Ah cherie," he sighed as I ran my fingers through his hair, "You got magic fingers honey."

"So do you," I replied boldly.

Candie chuckled, his fingers startin' to walk south. I licked my lip in anticipation.

A sudden rap on the door brought Candie's fingers to a halt.

"Monsieur Candie?" a girlish voice rang out.

Candie sat up a little,

"Yes Coco?"

"Mistuh Leo want me to tell you that Mistuh Vay-, um, the Eye-talian, he just come."

"Alright Coco," Candie called to the girl behind the door, "Tell Leo I will join them in Julius Caesar momentarily."

"Yes Monsieur Candie."

Candie cupped my face,

"Sorry sugar, business calls."

He slid off the bed and disappeared into the ensuite bathroom. I heard him pour water into the basin and the patter of droplets as he rung out the sponge. A few minutes passed as he cleaned himself, dabbed on cologne which reached my nostrils before Candie remerged, still naked as Adam, to get dressed. When he was done, he turned to me,

"How do I look sugar?"

I smiled,

"Handsome."

Candie sauntered over to the bed.

"And you look delectable darlin'," he cupped my face, "What a shame Signor Vessepi has decided to be prompt. I thought Eye-talians were always supposed to be late," he kissed my forehead, "I'll send a pony up to help you get dressed alright?"

He blew me another kiss at the doorway and then he was gone. I rose from the bed, grabbed my undergarments and wandered into the bathroom. I washed myself, luxuriatin' in the feelin' of being refreshed and clean. There was a knock on the door just as I finished pullin' on my undergarments. When I saw the girl, I mistook her for Coco. She was dressed in the same maid's uniform. But she introduced herself as Lola.

"No not that," I said as she went to pick up my travel dress lyin' on the floor. I went over to the closet and looked in, "I want to wear..." I selected a dress, lime green and sparklin'. I knew the colour would suit my russet hair, "This one."

"You sure Madame Candie?" Lola asked in a nervous voice.

I eyed her narrowly. Did she know these were Shee-ba's clothes? Well so what, I thought, who gives a damn. I could wear one o' her dresses if I wanted. I could look just as sensuous as her. Once I showed Candie that, he'd never have a reason to look at her again.

"Get over here and dress me," I told Lola impatiently.

The girl did as she was told. Admittedly the dress hung looser off me than it would have Shee-ba. But I was too stubborn to give up the idea of wearin' it. I could still pull it off. I had Lola escort to me to where Candie was. The Julius Caesar room. I entered with as much confidence as I could muster.

"Hello gentleman."

Calvin was standin' at the bar with Mr. Moguy and another gentleman I presumed to be the Italian Vessepi. Shee-ba was also present. I was happy to see none o' the men were currently focused on her. They were starin' at me with widened eyes. I was pleased. The dress had to be workin'.

"Signor Vessepi?" I approached the only man I was yet to be acquainted with.

"Si, yes," he answered in a slightly flustered voice.

I offered my hand to him,

"So nice to meet you. Marie Candie, Calvin's wife."

"Ah," Vessepi's eyes lit up with understandin'. He kissed my hand, "Un pleasure, Signora Candie, un pleasure."

"Oh the pleasure's all mine," I insisted, "I've never met an Italian before. Are you all so impeccably dressed?"

The Italian smiled,

"You flatter me Signora Candie," he turned to Calvin, "Your wife she is charming no?"

Calvin put his arm around me,

"She most certainly she," I winced as his fingers dug into my hip, too sharp to be accidental. What had I done wrong? Had I ladled it on too thick, made Candie think I was flirtin' with the man?

"You are a fortunate man," Vessepi said to him.

"Indeed," Candie said pleasantly as his fingers still clawed me, "I only hope my luck extends to our lil Mandingo fight. Speakin' o' which I think it's time we took our seats."

He gestured to a set of sofas at the opposite end o' the room. Beyond stood two burly black men.

"After you Signor. Go make yoreself comfortable."

"Grazie," Vessepi murmured and ambled across the room.

"Leo," Candie turned to Moguy, "It's 'bout time that German showed up. Go wait for him will you."

"Certainly Calvin," Moguy obediently took his leave.

"Why are you dressed like a whore?" Calvin hissed in my ear.

I stared at him fearfully.

"I thought y-you'd like..."

The dark look on his face told I was wrong. Dead wrong and oh so stupid.

"I'm s-sorry," I whimpered.

Calvin smiled somewhat ferally.

"Not as sorry as you gonna be."

He pulled me by the waist across the room. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Shee-ba smilin' with unconcealed mirth. Of course the bitch found this hilarious. Me gettin' into trouble over wearin' her dress. We reached the sofas and Candie pulled me down next to him.

"Your wife she watch?" Vessepi enquired from the other sofa. He sounded a little disturbed. I was too. Surely Candie didn't mean for me to watch this bloodbath?

Candie patted my thigh roughly,

"Si Signor. My Marie got a strong stomach, don't you sugar?"

I nodded weakly, too afraid to anger Candie more by disagreein'.

"That's my girl," Candie said fiercely, "Commence your fightin' niggas!" he shouted.

**To be continued...**

**I think watching the Mandingo fight will be a turning point for Marie. I hope I have Candie down as a hypocritical manipulative bastard lol. Stay tuned for Schultz and Django next chapter.**


	9. Chapter 9

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 9**

**Author's Note: Another chapter for you lovely people. Thank you to ihavenoname, guest and wildhorsewriting for your reviews :) I've used dialogue from the movie in this chapter. I've italicised it just to show that it is ** **Tarantino's brilliance, not mine. Seriously he is a master of dialogue, not to mention a genius film-maker. His Aussie accent is also horribly funny, I say this as an Australian XD Enjoy guys!**

I'd seen my brothers get into plenty o' fisticuffs when I was younger. But none o' their rough housin' could have prepared me for a Mandingo fight. Though my brothers fought with passion, they never set out to kill each other. For the Mandingos that was the aim of the game. Kill or be killed. So I sat there terrified as they wrestled, knowin' one was gonna die in front o' me.

"Calvin?" I whispered. He turned his head. I gave him a look o' pleadin', hopin' he would forgive the faux pas o' current attire, let me leave. But Candie put a finger to his lips, eyes stern and unforgivin'. I knew I wasn't goin' anywhere.

Candie turned back to the fight. How easily he went back to bein' engrossed. I couldn't understand. This wasn't a play or a concert. This was two men beatin' each other to death. How could he derive any fascination from it?

And how could he think this was a suitable punishment for me? All I'd done was throw on the wrong dress. Yes I'd embarrassed him, but surely my mistake didn't warrant a ticket to an execution. Yet I couldn't argue with Candie. Not in front o' Vessepi. That would only make him angrier. Despite what he was puttin' me through, I didn't want Candie angry with me.

I found a spot on the floor to concentrate on. I would have liked to close my eyes. Blocked my ears. But if Vessepi caught me doin' that, he would know I was no willin' spectator. I knew Candie wouldn't feel too kindly about bein' proven a liar. So the spot on the floor was my only option. It at least reduced the fighters to shadows in my peripheral.

Unfortunately it did little to mute the sounds of their grunts, the wet thud of fists hittin' flesh.

I almost wept at the sound o' the door, givin' me an excuse to turn my head and turn my full attention elsewhere. It was Moguy, accompanied by Coco and two strangers. A stern-faced black, and a fifty-ish lookin' man in a gray suit. Gray in the beard too, though his hair was still blond. He smiled in my direction.

I smiled back, out of sheer gratitude for their interruption. Not that it was much o' an interruption. I could hear the fight carryin' on behind me.

_"Why do you want to get in the Mandingo business?"_ My head jerked at Candie's voice beside me. I was surprised by his lack o' hospitality. He didn't even turn his head to look at the newcomers. His gaze stayed glued on the fight. I turned back to the bearded gent. He was lookin' taken aback.

"_You don't intend to allow your second to make the proper introductions?"_ he asked, speakin' with an accent.

I supposed it was German. Hadn't Candie been sayin' somethin' about a German? Whoever he was, Candie obviously didn't think he was worth budgin' for a handshake.

_"Quit stallin' and answer the question,"_ he said coldly.

I half-expected the German to complain o' impropriety. He was well within his rights. Instead he complied with Candie's demand.

_"The awful truth? I'm bored and it seems like a good bit of fun." _

I winced. How could a fight to the death be classed as a "good bit o' fun"? Yet these were magic words to Candie. He finally turned and gave a pleasant nod of approval.

"_Come on over,"_ he invited the German, _"We got us a fight going on that's a good bit of fun."_

The German made his way over. Moguy led his companion to the bar. I was a little intrigued. No slave would be offered a drink at the bar. So who exactly was this man? I felt Candie rise from the sofa and followed suit.

"_Doctor Schultz,"_ Candie shook the German's hand.

_"What a rare pleasure,"_ the German bowed, showin' no resentment for his earlier treatment, _"And I might add, an honour."_

"My wife Marie," Candie introduced me, gesturin' at my stomach with his free hand, "Junior."

It was a habit he'd gotten into, introducin' our unborn, makin' sure people knew I was pregnant. You couldn't tell just by lookin' at me yet.

"Ah ein Kind!" the German exclaimed, "Congrat..."

_"Keep fightin' niggas!"_ Candie ordered.

"... ulations," the German finished, appearin' unruffled, "A pleasure to meet you Madame Candie."

He took my hand and bend to kiss it. A respectful peck, his beard light as a feather across my skin.

"The pleasure's all mine."

"_Please take a seat Doctor,"_ Candie indicated the sofa with a hint o' insistence.

No doubt he wanted to get back to the fight. I felt his hand on my arm. My heart beat fretfully. Candie obviously hadn't changed his mind about excusin' me. I joined him back on the sofa, with the Doctor seated to my left. My eyes resumed starin' at the patch o' floor.

The sound o' the Mandingos' grunts and fists seemed to intensify. Obviously the fight was reachin' its climax. Candie and Vessepi started callin' to their fighters. Vessepi in unintelligible Italian. I couldn't tell what he was sayin'. Unlike Candie, who I could understand perfectly.

"_Come on, now, boy! It's a fight to the death! You either hit him or are you ain't? Big Fred, come on! Turn him around! Now! Come on, now! Use your strength!" _

My stomach turned queasily. Candie sounded like the Devil tellin' Cain to kill Abel. I suppose that was an apt analogy. These poor souls were family as far as their skin was concerned. And they were bein' made to beat each other until...

SNAP!

The awful sound o' breakin' bone. A cry o' disappointment from Vessepi.

"_Blind him black, boy! Blind him black!"_ Candie shouted.

I was sickened by how bloodthirsty he sounded. But the squelchin' sound of Big Fred gougin' his opponent's eyes was worse. I couldn't hide my terror, buryin' my face in my hands.

"Finish him," I heard Candie say amidst the screams of the blind man.

I heard a thud. Curiosity got the better o' me. I lowered my hands to see Big Fred pick a hammer off the ground. I looked away with horror, found myself starin' into the Doctor's face. Immediately I knew what he'd told Candie had been a lie. No man who thought Mandingo fightin' was a good bit o' fun would look as uncomfortable as this Doctor did, unable to disguise it in this moment any more than I could.

Thunk went the hammer. Luigi went silent. It was over.

"_Arrivederci Luigi!"_ Candie crowed. He began congratulatin' his fighter, _"You did a fine job. A real fine job_. Wouldn't you say Madame Candie?"

I tore my gaze away from the Doctor, looked to Candie and his blood-covered champion.

"Yes," I forced the word from my lips along with a smile.

Candie nodded with approval. He turned to Moguy, gave him instructions to find Big Fred a room. I lowered my gaze to my lap, unable to prevent myself glimpsin' Luigi's cadaver in the process. The image burned in my mind. I felt physically ill.

"Madame Candie?"

It was the Doctor. I turned to him queasily.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

"I'm..." In my current state I found it too hard to lie, "No," I whispered.

The Doctor nodded in an empathetic sort o' way.

"Monsieur Candie," he called to my husband with priority in his voice, "Your wife seems unwell."

Candie turned away from Moguy.

"Is that right sugar?" he came to stand before me, "You ain't feelin' too good?"

I shook my head, hopin' the concern on his face was genuine, not just for show. He put the back o' his hand to my forehead.

"Probably too much sun today," he turned to the Doctor with a smile, "Five hour ride and she forgets to bring a hat. Won't make that mistake again will you sugar?"

His voice was borderin' stern. I suspected he was really referrin' to my mistake with the dress.

"No," I murmured contritely. I was never gonna wear Shee-ba's gowns again.

Candie stroked my cheek.

"I think you better have a little lie down."

I nodded, grateful he was finally feelin' merciful. Candie took my hand and I rose from the sofa.

"You don't mind if my wife takes her leave Doc?" he asked.

"Of course not," the German stood respectfully, "I would not wish her to endure any further discomfort."

Was it my imagination or was there a hint o' reproach in his voice? Candie's eyes narrowed, as if he was tryin' to work out the same thing. A disarmin' smile jumped on the Doctor's lips, as if to say no offense intended. Candie chose to believe him. He smiled back. No offense taken.

"Gentleman," he said.

"One tries," the Doctor said humbly. He turned to me, "Auf wiedersehen Madame Candie... Goodbye," he translated at my look o' confusion.

"Oh," I smiled despite my urgency to leave this room o' death. I couldn't fathom what this man was doin' here, if he couldn't stand Mandingo fightin'. Whatever the reason, I was grateful for his kindness and chose to farewell him in his own tongue, "Auf wiedersehen Doctor."

The Doctor smiled. I barely had time to register it as Candie cupped my face, rotatin' my head to look at him.

"I'll come check on you later," he said in an almost intimate voice.

I nodded, startled when he pulled my mouth to his for a kiss. Given we were in public, a kiss on the cheek would be more appropriate. It was a lingerin' kiss too. Candie tasted sharply o' the cigarette he'd been puffin' on. Usually I didn't mind that taste. But in my current state o' queasiness it made me want to gag. I was relieved when Candie pulled away.

He called for Coco to escort me to our room. I'd quite forgotten the girl's presence 'til he acknowledged her. One glimpse at her eyes and I could see how shaken she was.

"I'm sorry you had to watch that," I found myself sayin' as we walked the hallway.

She regarded me with wide flutterin' eyes.

"Da fight Madame Candie?"

I nodded. The girl was younger than me. Candie should have sent her from the room.

"It a'right Madame Candie," Coco pulled her lips in a brave smile, "No harm done."

I doubted that. But there was nothin' I could offer by way o' consolation. I couldn't wipe the memories from either o' our heads. We reached our destination. I dismissed her gently. I watched her walk away on lil heels, impressed by her courage to just get on with work. It seemed pathetic for me to carry on in the face o' that.

I lay on the bed and tried to think o' other things. The mysterious Doctor for instance, his equally mysterious companion. What was their real purpose here?

I wasn't sure how much time passed before Candie let himself into the room.

"How you feelin' sugar?"

I sat up.

"Better."

Candie smiled. He came over to the bed, cupped my cheek briefly before his hand slid down my neck to touch the front o' my dress. I tensed as he pinched the fabric between his fingers.

"Why you still in this pony get-up sugar?" he asked in a low voice.

I immediately swiped for the zip at the back.

"I was just about to take it off."

Unfortunately the abominable zip kept evadin' my grasp.

"Can't reach?" Candie said after watchin' me struggle for a good moment, "Get up cherie. I'll give you a hand."

I rose, presented my back to him. But instead o' unzippin' me, he ran his hands over my hips.

"Don't get me wrong cherie," he murmured in my ear, "You look good in this dress."

One o' his hands travelled up my front. The action excited me until his fingers reached my throat.

"Problem is you also look like a whore," Candie said sternly, "I don't want my wife lookin' like a whore. I want her lookin' like a Southern Belle. You understand me?"

"Yes!" I whimpered at the pressure o' his fingers, "I'm sorry Calvin."

"I know," Candie's voice turned gentle. He stroked my neck as his other hand clasped the zip, "And I forgive you."

He unzipped me in one stroke, tugged the dress from my body.

"Come sit in my lap lil dove."

I followed him over to the bed, now clothed in nothin' but my undergarments.

"The club has two points o' income cherie," Candie cradled me in his arms like a child, "Ponies and Mandingos. If a person ain't interested in either, they got no business bein' here. In short, you got no interest bein' here. Just like you got no interest wearin' that pony dress. You belong in Candieland. I hope recent events has made you see that."

I nodded, sincerely regrettin' the moment I'd begged to come along.

"Good girl," Candie stroked my hair, "We'll go home tomorrow, how 'bout that?"

"That sounds wonderful."

Truthfully I wished we could leave right this minute. But it was night and Candie had plans. He'd invited the German to dine with him in the club's restaurant. The German's companion too. He wasn't a slave as it turned out. He was a free man and the German's offsider o' sorts.

"The jokers wanna pay twelve thousand for one o' my niggas," Candie informed me excitedly, "Twelve thousand dollars!" he laughed, "I'll gladly treat them a meal for that kind o' investment."

I was rather confused hearin' this. Why would the Doctor fork out so much money if he couldn't stomach Mandingo fightin'? It didn't make sense but I supposed it was good news for Candie. In any case the topic o' eatin' filled me with distaste. I was still too squeamish from the fight.

"Is it alright if I missed this dinner?" I ventured timidly, "It's just I don't have much o' an appetite, and I am rather tired. I think I really did have too sun today..."

I was relieved when Candie accepted my excuses with goodwill. It was only a business dinner. My presence wasn't required. He would pass on my apologies to the German. I thanked him with a kiss.

"It won't be a long dinner will it?"

I didn't like the idea o' bein' cooped up on my own all night. I wanted Candie with me.

"Just a main and desert I promise. I'll be back before you know it."

I took him at his word. He freshened up, kissed me goodbye and left. I turned to the book I'd brought to pass the time. _The Count of Monte Cristo._ I inched through it at my regular snail's pace 'til my eyelids grew heavy. I put the book to one side and fell asleep. I don't know if it was the fault o' a dog barkin' in the street, promptin' me to dream about poor Charlemagne's demise, the same dream I had every so often.

I woke up in the dark, gropin' for Candie for comfort only to find he wasn't there. When I calmed down, I checked the clock. It was one in the mornin'. So where was Candie? Surely the dinner couldn't have run this long into the night.

He's with _her_. The thought sliced me like a knife. He's somewhere with her.

I lay awake with that awful suggestion burrowin' deeper and deeper 'til exhaustion closed my eyes. I was roused by the sound o' splashin' water. I sat up, rubbin' my eyes.

"Calvin?" I called uncertainly.

"Mornin' kitten!" his voice drifted from the bathroom.

Shortly he appeared, freshly dressed, doin' up the final button o' his waistcoat. He sat on the edge o' the bed and smilingly touched my cheek.

"I didn't hear you come in last night," I said quietly.

Did his smile flicker? If it did he fixed it quickly.

"O' course you didn't," he told me in an amused voice, "You were out like a log."

I glanced at his side o' the bed. The sheet was still neatly tucked in at the side and his pillow lacked any indent o' his head. He hadn't slept here at all. He had slept somewhere else. With someone else.

I turned and stared heartbrokenly into his smilin' face.

He was a liar, and I was a goddamn fool.

**To be continued...**

**Poor Marie. She's realised that Candie isn't the perfect man she thought he was. Which means drama ahead so stay tuned :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Short Life of a Southern Belle**

**Chapter 10**

**Author's Note: Another chapter. Thank you for wildhorsewriting for reviewing :) All dialogue in **_**Italics**_** is ©Tarantino. Enjoy.**

Several hours later we were on our way back to Candieland. Candie was conversin' with Moguy who had joined us because Candie required him for his deal with German. The Doctor was presumably some ways behind us, travellin' with his free man. I didn't spare them much thought, too preoccupied with another matter.

I hadn't confronted Candie about his betrayal. I felt he would deny it, insist he'd slept in our bed last night. Even if he did fess up, I wasn't ready to accept another promise he wouldn't do it again. That left me with not much else to do, other than sit and stew in silence, wishin' all manner o' horrible afflictions on his temptress. Candie wouldn't want her if she caught leprosy.

Candie's hand suddenly moved over mine in my lap. I started, glanced sideways and caught him smilin' at me tenderly. The smile I gave back was involuntary but tremulous. Candie turned back to Moguy, leavin' me even more vexed by behaviour. How he act so sweet, lettin' me know he cared through small gestures, yet two-time me behind my back.

And for what reason. I was with child so he could no longer use the excuse he was sore about that. Moreover I always did my best to please him. Sure the dress fiasco had been a setback, but Candie said he'd forgiven me. If he hadn't been angry about that, what had spurred him into Shee-ba's arms?

Was the bottom line he simply couldn't resist her, in her form-huggin' dresses. The kind I wasn't allowed to wear out o' decency. Was it a simple matter o' him wantin' to have his cake and eat it too? A Southern Belle wife and a whore on the side. The idea filled me with disgust. Plain greed was no excuse to philander, even if you were Calvin J Candie, the king o' Candieland...

Candie's voice broke through my thoughts, tellin' the driver to pull up. The German and his free man had just ridden up alongside us. The latter stayed silent as the German removed his hat, greetin' us with a bow.

"How are you feeling Madame Candie?" he asked.

"I'm well Doctor," I lied.

"I'm happy to hear it," the German replied with a smile.

"Marie's enjoyin' the trip better now she has loan o' a parasol," Candie remarked with a chuckle, "Ain't that right sugar?"

I forced myself to nod. Candie had sourced the parasol from the closet, so I knew it belonged to Shee-ba. Why she had need for a parasol I had no idea, unless she did turns around the club's garden with Candie on her arm. Like a proper couple.

I'd been loath to take it when Candie held it out to me. I would have preferred Billy's hat. But Candie didn't want me wearin' a man's hat anymore than he wanted me wearin' one o' Shee-ba's dresses. Yet for some reason it was acceptable to use her goddamn parasol.

Candie invited the German to ride with us in the carriage, an offer he graciously accepted, followin' Candie's instruction to tie his horse at the back.

"Jango," Candie tipped his hat to the free man. He'd dismounted to feed his horse a handful o' grass.

The free man returned the gesture mutely.

"_Bright day eh Bright Boy?"_ Candie said.

"_The sun is up,"_ the free man straight-forwardly replied.

"_Shinin' down on all o' us,"_ Candie concurred.

"'cept me," I muttered dryly.

Candie turned to me and laughed.

"That's right," he cooed, "you well shaded funny gal."

"Very witty," Moguy murmured sycophantically.

I didn't bother explainin' that I'd been referrin' to my mood.

The German was in the process o' steppin' up into the carriage. I watched him take a seat next to Moguy, unaware o' what was brewin' behind until I heard a horse squeal.

I whipped around to see one man sprawled on the ground, the free man totin' a pistol and the other men with their hands on theirs.

Candie was immediately on his feet, callin' for calm.

"_I saw the whole thing, no harm done."_

Billy Crash began to protest in a voice o' disbelief.

"_I said no harm done!"_ Candie's voice cracked like a whip. He ordered them to take their hands off their firearms, makin' sure even Butch complied, _"Everybody stop antagonisin' my guest."_

The free man holstered his gun. Candie resumed his seat after instructin' the others to help the fallen man remount his horse. He was claimin' a busted collarbone.

"You'll have to excuse these yokels, Doctor," Candie said in a low voice, "They ain't used to treatin' niggas with good manners."

"No harm done," the German echoed Candie's earlier words.

Candie nodded,

"Indeed," he said, "Willie, take us home."

"What part o' Germany do you hail from Doctor?" I asked as we continued on our way to Candieland.

"Dusseldorf," he answered, "Are you familiar with Germany Madame Candie?"

Candie chuckled,

"Marie ain't much familiar with any place outside Chickasaw County."

I blushed, agitated Candie would point out my ignorance like that.

"Well perhaps the Doctor could familiarise me with Dusseldorf," I said, "Would you?"

He returned the smile I gave him.

"Of course."

"You miss your homeland Doctor?" I asked when he finished describin' this far off place called Dusseldorf.

"I certainly miss the language," he replied, "I haven't had a word of German spoken to me in four years. Until you wished me auf wiedersehen last night Madame Candie. I'm most indebted to you."

I found myself blushin' again. He was very charmin' with his speech, this German.

"I probably pronounced it all wrong," I said shyly.

"Oh no," he insisted, "Your pronunciation was perfekt," he made an o with his thumb and forefinger.

I felt myself swell at his praise.

"You're very kind Doctor," I said with every sincerity, "Perhaps you could teach me some other phrases."

"Marie," Candie said in a faintly reproving tone, "The Doctor ain't here in a teachin' capacity."

"Oh I don't mind," the Doctor said, "Quite the opposite in fact."

Candie smiled a hard smile,

"That's sweet o' you Doc. But as you might fathom we don't get many bona fide Germans gracin' Candieland. That bein' said, it simply wouldn't be worth your time teachin' Marie any German."

"But Calvin," I pleaded quietly, "The Doctor takes comfort in hearin' his mother tongue."

"Then it is his lucky day," Calvin replied, "For I just so happen to own a nigga gal that speaks perfekt," he copied the Doctor's gesture, "German."

The German's brows shot up in rather theatrical surprise.

"You do?"

"Yes suh," Candie said almost smugly, "Acquired her just four months ago. Pretty gal too except for her back. It's been whipped to Hell. Oh and there's a mark on her cheek," he touched his own cheek, "But apart from them flaws there ain't nothin' wrong with her."

"She sounds wonderful," the German said.

I was surprised to feel a twinge o' anger. This man wasn't my husband. Why should I care if he got enthused over the idea o' some pretty German-speakin' slave?

Meanwhile Candie had gotten distracted by the free man ridin' behind us. He was snappin' at the Mandingos.

"_He is a rambunctious sort, ain't he?"_ Candie remarked bemusedly, turnin' for another look.

The German claimed back his attention, askin' if we might stop. He wanted to have a strategy meetin' with the free man prior to inspectin' Candie's Mandingos.

"By all means Doctor," Candie said after a beat, "Willie, pull up."

We halted. The Doctor stepped out of the carriage to meet the free man by his horse. They conversed for a while, in voices too low to pick up what they were sayin'. Then the Doctor made his way back to us.

"All sorted for strategy Doc?" Candie said.

"Yes danke," the Doctor replied a little distantly, "I mean thank you," he became more present with a smile.

Danke. I memorised the word so I might slip it into conversation later.

It wasn't long before we reached the tracker's shack where men like Pa spent most their time, waitin' for one o' the slaves to try escapin'. I tensed at the sound o' dogs barkin' up ahead, figurin' it had to mean one thing.

Sure enough I was right. A little while down the road was a black man up a tree, just outta reach o' the snappin' dogs.

"_I'll be. D'Artagnan! Now, boy, why do a fool thing like run off?"_ Candie called to him.

"_I can't fight no more, Monsieur Candie,"_ was the man's pitiful reply, revealin' himself as a Mandingo.

The dogs carried on barkin', gratin' on my nerves. Candie's too by the sound o' it. He got to his feet and ordered Stonesipher to make them quiet.

The hounds were wrenched away, over to where my Pa was standin' with my brother George and the other trackers. George was the only one followin' Pa's footsteps. Hank and Bobby were overseers in the fields. Dickey o' course was too young to decide.

I watched D'Artagnan clamber down to fall on his knees. Candie stepped down from the carriage and spent a moment learnin' the facts D'Artagnan's escape from Stonesipher. He then asked Moguy who D'Artagnan's next opponent was. The answer was one o' the men with us.

Candie appraised the kneelin' man.

"_Well, way he looks now, a blind Indian wouldn't bet a bead on him."_

D'Artagnan began pleadin' but Candie cut him off,

"_Now, no beggin'. No playin' on my soft heart."_

I glanced uneasily at the dogs, knowin' that Candie wasn't about to show this man any mercy. He was a financial loss, a limpin' Mandingo who couldn't fight to save his life. Candie wasn't shy about expressin' his discontent.

"_You gonna reimburse me?"_ he asked D'Artagnan superfluously, _"You even know what reimburse means? Huh?"_

D'Artagnan didn't. A lot o' the men present found that funny. I didn't. Laughin' at a broken man close to death, it was repugnant.

"_I'll reimburse you."_

I looked to the German in surprise. He took out his wallet to prove he was bein' serious. He could have only been moved by compassion. There was no other explanation for him offerin' up payment for this poor soul.

"_You'll pay five hundred dollars for practically a one eyed ole Joe, ain't fit to push a broom?"_ Candie asked with a good deal o' curiosity in his voice.

"_No, he won't,"_ Jango spoke up firmly, _"He just tired of you toyin' with him is all. As a matter of fact, so am I..."_

My eyes widened. Not even white men spoke as boldly to Candie as the free man did, sayin' the Doctor wasn't goin' to buy D'Artagnan. The German stowed his wallet in confirmation.

Candie walked over to the free man's horse, stroked its muzzle.

"_Seein' as you won't pay a penny for this pickaninny here, you won't mind me handlin' this nigga any way I see fit?"_

"_He's your nigga,"_ was free man's answer.

"Mr. Stonesipher."

As soon as the name left Candie's mouth, I knew the next words were gonna be release the dogs. I couldn't bear to watch another man get ripped apart. I leapt to my feet.

"Calvin!"

"Yes, sugar?" Calvin said a slightly impatient voice.

"I'm sure D'Artagnan could still push a broom," I said, my voice tremblin' with desperation, "How 'bout you put him to work in the stable?"

Candie cocked his head slightly,

"The stable?"

"Yes."

Candie glanced at D'Artagnan.

"Naw I don't think so. I don't need a gimp tryin' to sling shit in my stable."

"Then let Mr. Crash take him to Greenville," I pleaded, "You'll at least get some money for him."

Candie chuckled,

"Darlin', you wouldn't walk a lame horse all the way to Greenville to earn a few beans. No, you better off puttin' that nag down."

"Calvin!" I said in a sharp quiverin' voice, "I don't want to see this man torn apart by dogs."

Candie blinked rapidly. I'd never spoken to him so harshly before. In public too.

"My sweet wife," he exclaimed, "What villain to do you take me for? I would never subject your eyes to that type o' depravity."

He turned to Stonesipher,

"Await my signal Mr. Stonesipher."

The man gave an affirmative grunt. Candie strode back over to the carriage and climbed back in.

"Sit your pretty tush down honey," he pushed me gently back into my seat, "Willie, start us on our way."

We had barely begun to move when Calvin turned around.

"A'right Mr. Stonesipher!" he called.

My heart thundered in my chest, hearin' the dogs bein' unleased behind us. D'Artagnan's screams blasted into the air. The good Doctor had an unfortunate vantage point from where he was sittin'. I knew exactly what sickly sights were bein' seared into his memory. He looked to one side, face pale.

I felt Candie's hand on my thigh. I looked to see he was smilin', smilin' as a man got ripped to pieces.

Monster, I thought.

**To be continued...**

**Marie getting more and more disillusioned with Candie. And yeah she's a lil sweet on the Doctor. I think it would be hard for a woman in a relationship like hers not to taken by a man who is a genuinely kind person. **

**Oh and I know its Django not Jango :) but Marie has no idea the D is silent.**


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